


My Mother Will Hear About This

by go_Jean_or_go_home



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Eventual Sex, F/F, F/M, Hogwarts AU, M/M, When they're both 18, it's happy and fun and just smiles all around while still trying to not be cheesy???, long chapters, no I will not tell you who is in what house in the tags, read and find out yourself ;)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-04-19 17:00:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 64,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14241816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/go_Jean_or_go_home/pseuds/go_Jean_or_go_home
Summary: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is a magical, mysterious place of surprisingly diverse ethnic backgrounds, an even more diverse daily buffet, a certain broom-riding ball sport most of us muggles desperately wished existed, and most of all, team-building and bonding of a lifetime through snowball attacks, lesbian owls, sentient stick men ruining your homework, and near-death experiences in the name of school spirit. It's a wild ride alright, but Eren Jaeger is renound for being about as wild as they come, and is not backing down from any challenge, much less a seven-year boarding school for witches and wizards.So, when on the very first day of his new school, he meets a fire to match his own, he is perfectly capable of taking this on. After all, you know what they say about fighting fire with fire! ... It usually creates a bigger fire. Especially if there is magic involved. You should probably call the fire department then. Or run to Professor Nanaba for help. Or try and wave your wand at the fire in the hopes it will go down.(Or, or, or... you could just maybe fall in love with that other fire.)





	1. First Year

**Author's Note:**

> OH MY GOD. Okay, so to start this off, why did that shitty fucking summary lure you in who even are you what was that ugh
> 
> Second of all, all the chapters (except for six and seven lmao i cry) are completed before hand, simply because I want you guys to have consistent updates and I don't want to stress myself out?? (wait until chapter six then we'll worry) hbyjnty (that was my cat. he literally, honest-to-god just walked across my keyboard.)
> 
> This whole project of mine started way back in the beginning of the year and honestly this is the most I've ever written and I'm so fucking proud of myself so *furiously pats myself on the back*. Basically, I read a whole bunch of other people's Hogwarts erejean fanfics but wasn't satisfied and was like "fuck it, I'll do it myself" and so I did. Am. (Shhhh the last two chapters are on the way. One is a vine comp and the other is gonna by my life's work.)
> 
> I'm well aware that the erejean and snk fandom is dying a wee bit, so share this around on twitter, tumblr, and anywhere else you can! And please, please, PLEASE leave comments! I've worked very, very hard on this. 
> 
> Now, there's probably stuff I'm forgetting and will add in the beginnings of chapters later on, but for now, please read and enjoy!

Carla Jamaković had been born and raised in the beautiful and culturally rich country of Turkey. During her year abroad in college, she went to London, where she met Grisha Jaeger, who would soon become her future lawfully wedded husband. So, how exactly did they meet?

Well, during her time studying literature in London, Carla was unfortunately one of many who contracted a disease in a minor outbreak. Grisha was on the team of doctors who had brought medical treatment. While Grisha was working on her, Carla had learned that he was from Germany, and had come to England to study and earn his medical degree. They shared an intellectual discussion on the historical background of her surname, went out for lunch the day Carla was announced healthy, and it didn't take long before the two of them were dressed in white under a canopy in an outdoor wedding.

They moved to England, in a rural town just outside of London named Shiganshina, and settled in.

Two years later, they had a son: Eren Jaeger. He had the same dark sun-kissed skin as his mother, with thick brown hair and strikingly bright green eyes. His parents loved him.

Growing up, Eren proved to have a loud, attention-grabbing personality, being stubborn, short-tempered, and driven by a unique, but strong sense of purpose. Unfortunately, kids didn't exactly click too well with him in school, and he didn’t attract any friends due to his tendency to go off on tangents and then get into fights with anyone who dared criticise him, but his parents still loved him anyway (not the fighting, mind you. He got scolded plenty for that). The postman, Hannes, visited often, since he was also a family friend. He liked to ruffle Eren’s hair when said brunette was having a bad day. Hannes was like that uncle you both hate and love.

Carla made sure her son learned the language of her homeland, Turkish, and Grisha tried to do the same but as it turned out, Eren was better hearing German than speaking, reading, or writing it. They all, of course spoke English, since they lived in a predominantly English-speaking part of the world.

Eren turned eleven, and during the summer before sixth grade, he told his parents at breakfast that he wanted to be in the military when he grew up. That did not fare well at all with either of his parents. Luckily for Carla and Grisha, however, that was the exact day a mysterious envelope arrived at their front door, delivered by Hannes, who had no idea where or who it was from. The envelope had one of those red press seals that you see in movies about the 1800s and you didn't know they existed anymore. 

Carla and Grisha apparently recognized what the letter was immediately, and were ecstatic. Eren got frustrated, since he had no clue what it was about. Upon opening the letter, Eren was informed that he had been accepted into the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

“But I already go to school! I didn't even send in an application! Is this some kind of joke? What kind of name is Hogwarts? Witches and magic are just pretend!” An indignant Eren shouted, but it had no effect on his parents, who immediately whisked him off to the car.

During the drive, his parents happily explained what was going on, or, at least as well as they could through their excitement. Eren still had no idea what was going on, and wasn’t pleased by that fact.

When the vehicle stopped rumbling, Eren stepped out to see that they were way out in the middle of nowhere. The car was parked on a dirt road, which lead right up to a house that looked more like stacked blocks, in the middle of the woods. Looking back, Eren couldn't even see where they had come from. The trees just swallowed the road up.

Carla and Grisha took both of Eren’s hands, and led him up to the front door of the house. It was still early afternoon. His parents only needed to knock once, before a friendly face surrounded by soft blonde hair opened the door. 

“Grisha!” The man greeted, pulling Eren’s father in for a firm hug. He gave Eren’s mother a welcome hug as well. “Carla! How’re you all doing?”

“We're doing splendid! We have great news!” His mother responded.

The man ushered the three of them inside, ruffling Eren’s hair as a greeting before closing the door. Eren licked his hand and smoothed his hair back down. Carla called him over to sit on a couch in between herself and Grisha. “Eren, honey, this is Mr. Ackerman.” Eren plopped down on the cushions, scowling in aggravation of still being left in the dark.

Mr. Ackerman settled down on the couch opposite of the Jaegers, as a woman with black hair came in to see what all the noise was about. She immediately recognized Eren’s parents, and came over to give both of them hugs. She, too, ruffled Eren’s hair. He openly showed his annoyance, which only received an unwanted laugh from the adults. The woman, who appeared to be Mrs. Ackerman, sat down next to Mr. Ackerman.

“So I take it Eren received his letter?” A nod from his parents. 

Eren leaned over the back of the couch to stare at the clouds out the window. “Our Mikasa got one yesterday as well.” Eren turned away from the sunny sky at this, now curiously peeking over his shoulder to pay attention. 

Grisha spoke. “Is now a good time to get the supplies? I know it's short notice, but we have the list, and only you have the transportation to the Alley.” Eren sat back on the couch and turned to his father. “What alley?”

“Diagon Alley.” Was his response. “Your mother and I are incapable of taking you there, because we're h-hu— norm— uhhh..” Grisha looked to Mr. Ackerman for help. “What's the word?” 

Mr. Ackerman smiled. “Muggles.”, “Yes, right, muggles. So is Mrs. Ackerman!” 

Mrs. Ackerman smiled like her husband. Grisha turned back to his son. “You, on the other hand, aren’t a muggle. So, Mr. Ackerman will be taking you and Mikasa to Diagon Alley to get your school supplies. Oh, I haven't seen Mikasa in so long…” 

The parents started talking, and Eren tuned them out. His head was reeling with everything that had just happened. Magic was real. He was a wizard. He was going to a magic school with other witches and wizards. And what were muggles? 

After the parents had caught up and Eren had an awkward introduction to Mikasa, Carla and Grisha told Eren that they'd see him in a few hours. With that, Mr. Ackerman took Eren and Mikasa up a few flights of stairs, and into a room with an unused fireplace. 

It was time for Eren to have a full and proper greeting with the wizarding world.

_____

_____

Getting supplies had taken much longer than expected, and Eren had expected a long time. He and Mikasa had both gotten their robes and books, spent a good twenty minutes cooing at owls and cats, and their wands had chosen them. Eren’s wand was made of birch and had a phoenix feather core, while Mikasa’s was made from hornbeam with a dragon’s heartstring.

He and Mikasa had bonded in the candy store, since Mikasa found it entertaining how little Eren knew about magic and the wizarding world. Eren’s mood and outlook on things were getting more and more positive with every second he discovered something new. 

Eren had unearthed many things, such as what subjects he'd be studying at Hogwarts, and that he was known as a “muggle-born”. Mikasa was a “half-blood”. Mikasa and Mr. Ackerman had to explain both those terms and “muggle” to him. Eren had many questions, and both Mr. Ackerman and his daughter were willing to answer them.

Eren went home that night with all his new possessions and findings, now feeling just as excited about his future as his parents were.

_____

_____

They'd waited out the months, and counted down the days. Circled the date on the calendar with a fat, red marker, even. When the day came, Eren had bid his parents a tearful goodbye, and Mikasa hers, before the two of them took off towards platform 9 ¾.

The impressively large black and red train had clouds of steam billowing around it like a cloak. Kids rushed around with their families, chatter and shouting rattled Eren’s ear drums, and the deafening train whistle tooted one last time to signal this was the last chance to get on. Then the train took off, and kids leaned out of windows to wave at their families and younger siblings. 

Once the train was out of the station and chugging along the track, Mikasa and Eren found an empty cabin, and got comfy. For the first forty-five minutes, Eren took turns gaping out the window, and prying every bit of information from Mikasa about what was in store for him. He was most interested in quidditch.

“Sooooooo,” Eren drawled. “The Keeper is like the goalie, the Chasers are offense, Beaters are like defense, and the Seeker just sits around until the Golden Snitch shows up?” Mikasa had a brief moment of confusion. “A goalie?”

“Yeah!” Eren replied. “Guards the goal?” 

A few seconds. “Ah, yeah. But about the Seeker,” Eren listened intently. “They  _ have _ to keep an eye out for the Snitch, because you never know when it could show up, and it's worth so many points.”

Eren asked, “What are the rules?” Mikasa sighed. “There’s a lot of them, so I’ll just tell you the most important ones you need to know.”

They continued talking for awhile, and Eren was just going to start asking about magic and spells when his stomach rumbled.

“There’s a lady with a cart of candy somewhere,” Mikasa told him. “See if you can find her.”

“But I don’t have any money—” Mikasa pressed a couple coins into his palm, then pushed him towards the cabin door. Well, a few sweets never hurt anybody…

Eren made his way down the train corridor, and opened the door to the next car. He went through two more cars, and was about to turn back and give up, but when he stepped into the third car, he saw the little old lady with her cart of candy.

“Ah! Miss!” He shouted, trying to get her attention. She turned and shushed him. “There's no need to shout, young man. Now,” She came closer to him so they could speak at a reasonable volume. “What is it that you need? Candy?” 

Eren nodded. 

“Well, choose what you'd like.” The lady waved her arms over her display of unhealthy goodies. Eren looked over the colorful assortment, but was surprised to not recognize any of them. Pink balls and yellow drops, supposedly sugar skeletons and butterflies, lollipops that appeared to be swirling, chocolate… toads? The lady sensed his bewilderment, and explained the treats to him. 

“Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, this here is just bubblegum, oh! Exploding bon-bons are my personal favourite!” 

Eren still didn’t know what any of it was, but he picked out a few of them, paid the lady, and made his way back through the train carts with his candy in his arms. 

Suddenly, one of the cabin doors swung open right into Eren’s face, causing him to let out a cry of pain and stumble back, dropping all his candy in favor of holding his nose. 

“Watch where you’re going!” Eren looked up to see a boy around his age and height with amber eyes, spiky ashen hair and a chubby face, standing by the open cabin door Eren had just walked into. Eren scowled, already feeling hatred towards this kid. “It’s your fault for opening the door without checking, jerk!” Eren yelled.

The boy scoffed and crossed his arms. “Aww, da wittle baby’s sad he dwopped his candy!” He mocked, indicating Eren’s candy scattered around the train corridor. A few kids had peeked out of their cabins to see what the commotion was about, and silently watched the two boys with whispers of interest. 

Eren snarled and lunged forward. “Shut up, you jerkface!” There was a brief flash of fear in the kid’s eyes as Eren threw his fist forward, but a hand clamped around his arm before it could make contact with buttface’s face.

Eren looked behind him to see it was the candy lady who had stopped his punch. “Young man!” She scolded, as Eren struggled to pry his wrist from her grasp. She wasn’t letting go. “As two young wizards, I expect better from you! You boys should  _ not _ be fighting like this!” 

The jerk-kid pointed an accusing finger at Eren. “He started it!”

“No, you did!” Eren cried incredulously, still struggling to take his wrist from the lady’s grasp. Kids whispered from within the cabins.

“Enough!” Candy lady shouted. “I will inform your professors of this when we get to Hogwarts, and they’ll decide what to do with you. Until then, make up.” 

Eren and jerk-kid gave her looks of horror. The lady crossed her arms, letting go of Eren’s wrist, and tapping her foot impatiently. “Well go on, shake hands!”

The two boys turned back slowly and glared at each other, then to Eren’s surprise, the jerk-kid stuck out his hand first. “Sorry.” He grumbled, looking at the floor, not sounding sorry in the slightest. Eren took his gross, sweaty hand and stiffly shook it. “Sorry.”

The candy lady nodded in approval. “Good. Now go back to your cabins and  _ stay _ there for the rest of the ride!” The jerk-kid looked up. “But, I was just leaving to get can—”, the lady cut the boy off with a stern look. 

The kid glared at her and Eren then exclaimed, “My mother will hear about this!”, then retreated back to his cabin, slamming the door in a show of true maturity and receiving another shouted scolding from the candy lady through the glass. Eren picked his candy up from the floor and went back to his and Mikasa’s cabin. 

“What happened?” She asked as Eren dumped his armful on the seat between them before plopping down angrily.

“Some pear-face opened the door while I was walking back, and we sorta fought about it because it was  _ his  _ fault for opening the door on my face— wha— hey!” Mikasa started poking at his nose.

“Are you okay? Tell me if this hurts.”

“Mikas— ow!” Eren leaned forward with his nose in his hands. “What was that for!?”

“That’s gonna bruise.” Mikasa informed him. She took a colorful piece of candy and handed it to Eren. “Have some candy, it’ll make you feel better.”

They ate candy and fell back into light conversation for the remainder of the train ride.

_____

_____

The train wheels loudly screeched to a stop, waking both Eren and Mikasa up. They realized, based on the flurry of people going by their cabin, that they’d made it, so they quickly stuffed all their candy wrappers into every available pocket to throw out later, and left the train with the rest of the mass of Hogwarts students.

Stepping off the train, the two eleven year olds blinked at the harsh light of the lamp posts, stark against the dark night sky and concealing any stars from sight. They followed the rest of the horde to swarm around the tallest man Eren had ever seen in his life. Mouth slightly agape, Eren concluded that’s also the biggest, and most unkempt beard he’s ever seen in his life as well.

The giant man spoke with a rumbling yet friendly voice, “All firs’ years, over here! Come on, come on. A’right kids, gather ‘round, gather ‘round,” The last stragglers scuttled over from the train. Eren noticed not everyone on the train was going to the bearded man, so he guessed those kids must be upperclassmen. 

“Yer all firs’ years, ‘at correct?” Unanimous nodding. The man huffed in satisfaction.

“Well, lovely then. We’ll be on our way, follow me.” 

Little whispers of excitement flew about the throng of kids as they all hurried behind their new guide. He led them through the dark and down to the bank of a large lake with a multitude of row boats, each with a glowing lantern, floating on the shore. 

Eren heard gasping from the front of the crowd, and shoved through some kids to see what they were so in awe about. 

Across the giant expanse of lake, was none other than the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A relic of a building, architecture like a castle, and lit up like a beacon. Eren felt Mikasa tug him by his robe into a rowboat, and Eren’s jaw dropped even more as all the boats started moving across the water together, clearly by the powers of magic.

Eren was relieved to see he wasn’t the only one responding like this, as many other faces among the boats were gazing in awe at what would essentially be their new home for the next seven years.

_____

_____

After stumbling off the boats and into the impressive school building, the mass of first years gathered on a staircase, where a robed and pointy hat-clad figure stood at the top.

“Welcome to Hogwarts!” She announced,  spreading her arms. “I am professor Nanaba. Now, very shortly, all of you are going to go through these doors,” She referred to the large double-door entrance behind her. “And join the rest of the school for dinner. But, you can’t sit down at a table until you’ve been sorted into your houses.”

A few kids chattered quietly as she went on. Eren and Mikasa exchanged nervous but excited glances.

“The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.”

More murmurs. Eren remembered Mikasa vaguely telling him about the houses, but the only knowledge she had of them was from her father, since she had no older or younger siblings. Her dad had been a Gryffindor. From Mikasa’s shaky explanation, he had the gist of the characteristics of each house. As to which one he fit in? He had no clue.

Nanaba continued, “While you’re here, your house will be like your family. Your successes and good deeds will earn your house points. Any rule-breaking or unfunny mischief making, and you’ll be the reason your house loses points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup. The sorting ceremony will begin shortly.”

With that, the woman disappeared behind the doors, leaving the children to their own devices. Shyly, they began to chatter with each other. Mikasa had no real intention of socializing, but Eren certainly did so she followed as he firmly planted himself in a small ring of talking students.

“My grandpa’s told me my entire family has been nothing but Ravenclaws!” A boy with blue eyes and shoulder-length blonde hair was saying. “I hope I get into Ravenclaw too. I’m so excited!”

“Maaaan,” A girl with an auburn ponytail drawled. “My dad told me the food here is a-ma-zing! I can’t wait to try  _ everything _ !”

A shorter boy with a buzzcut chuckled at her drooling. “Glad to see your appetite is in check, Sasha.” He then sighed. “I wanted to get a toad but my mom and dad said I’m not old enough.”

Eren felt a little out of place, since these kids had seemingly known all about magic their entire lives while he had only discovered it’s existence a few months ago. But nevertheless, he was determined to fit in here, much more determined than he had ever been in his normal human— er— muggle school. 

He decided to add to the conversation a little. “I’m most excited for quidditch!” Eren threw out.

Sasha and the buzz cut boy’s face lit up. “Did you read about the Quidditch World Cup this summer?”

“I  _ cannot _ believe Fiji beat Egypt; 1780 to 1720!”

“It was crazy — lasted for a whole  _ week _ before Egypt’s Seeker caught the Snitch! Wish I could’a gone.”

Eren was a little baffled by how quickly they took his conversation topic and ran with it, but also immensely curious to learn more about it and this “Quidditch World Cup”.

The blonde kid was speaking now. “ —I don’t know Connie, I’m not a huge fan of quidditch. Too violent for me. Also, I’m pretty sure first years can’t play.”

“Aw, bummer. Then I’ll try out next year! Then you can be my moral support, eh Armin? How about you… uh… what’s your name?”

Eren shook himself back into the conversation, as Mikasa stood quietly, looking around at the other students. “My name’s Eren! And this is Mikasa!” He grinned and Mikasa nodded in silent greeting. “I wanna play too! I think I wanna be a Chaser. They’re offense, right?” 

Connie and Sasha nodded, while Mikasa gave him a bit of an unimpressed look, since she’d already told him this on the train. Eren chuckled, oblivious to Mikasa, and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I have to admit, I’m pretty new to all this wizard stuff so it’ll take a while for me to get the hang of.”

Armin gasped. “Wait, are you a muggle-born?” Eren nodded uncertainly. “Oh my god! That’s so cool! My grandpa is super fascinated by how muggles get by without magic!” He turned to Sasha and Connie. “Did you know they have moving pictures as well? Without magic!”

Sasha and Connie blinked at Eren, impressed. Eren grinned pridefully. “Yeah, we also—”

“Alright, students!” All chatter immediately subsided as Nanaba returned, a scroll in her hand. “We’re now ready. Follow me.”

Mikasa, Eren, Armin, Connie, and Sasha scurried over to the rest of the group. Torch fire made light and shadow dance across the walls. The humongous wooden doors swung open on their own, revealing a giant, brightly lit dining room with four long tables, already packed with older students.

Murmurs of awe escaped the flock of kids as they started to walk further into the hall, looking about the room at the floating candles and the night sky showing right through the ceiling.

“It’s not really an open roof,” Armin whispered to Eren. “It’s just bewitched to look like that. Cool, huh?”

“Yeah…” Eren trailed off. He heard a scoff to his side, and turned his head to see the pear-faced boy from before rolling his amber eyes at them. Anger broiled in Eren’s gut again.

“What’s his deal?”

“Oh,” Another voice mumbled. Eren looked to see another boy with blonde hair a lighter shade than Armin’s. “That’s Jean. We live in the same neighbourhood. He thinks because he’s a pureblood he’s better than everyone else.”

Eren huffed while Armin elected to peacefully ignore Jean. Eren quietly inquired as they neared the front of the room, “His parents tell him that?”

“Parent, and no,” The boy responded. “Got the idea stuck in his head himself. His mom is one of the nicest people I know, even for a Slytherin.”

Eren hummed, but didn’t care enough to continue talking about buttface. “Name’s Thomas by the way. What’s yours?”

As the herd stopped a good space away from a wooden stool with a peculiar hat set upon it, Eren responded in a whisper. “I’m Eren, and this is Armin. We just met.”

Thomas chuckled good naturedly. “Pleasure.” Eren observed the long table set up perpendicular to the other four, which seemed to seat the teachers. In the grand chair in the middle, sat an elegantly robed man with electric blue eyes and a smooth and sophisticated blonde undercut. He instantly recognized Head Professor Erwin Smith from Mikasa’s description. 

Nanaba was talking again. “Now, here’s how this works.” She unfurled the scroll. “I will call your name, you will sit on the stool here, I will place the Sorting Hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses.

Eren recalled asking Mikasa how the Sorting Hat worked on the train, and she had told him it searched your heart, mind, and soul for your most prominent characteristics. It sounded way cool. Nanaba read off the first name. 

“Mina Carolina.” 

Being the first would make anyone nervous, and said girl with black double braids shyly skittered up to the stool where the hat was put on her head, like Nanaba had said. 

Eren was astonished to see the folds of the hat resemble a face, talking freely. It appeared to be weighing out her traits and skills, openly announcing it’s analysis (which made Eren a little uncomfortable). After a few moments, “Ravenclaw!”

One of the four long tables erupted in applause, the one covered in shades of blue, as Mina made her way over to it. Eren took in deep breaths to calm himself. 

“Sasha Braus!” Nanaba called. Said girl was a polar opposite from Mina, confidently hopping up and plopping down on the stool without a care in the world. +2 respect points for her, then. 

“Gryffindor!” 

More clapping from a different table, sporting gold and red this time. Two more names were called, neither of which Eren recognized, but he still watched their proceedings eagerly.

“Connie Springer!” 

Connie, who had seemingly zoned out during all this, needed to get elbowed in the ribs twice before he realized his name had been called. Like Sasha, Connie waddled up to the seat without an ounce of nervousness or hesitation. In fact, Eren was willing to bet the shorter boy zoned out  _ again _ the second he sat on the stool.

“Hufflepuff!” 

Eren clapped politely as Connie lazily shuffled over to the yellow-themed table. Hopefully the different houses would intermingle so he could talk to his new, dare he say, friends during the year.

“Armin Arlert!” 

Eren looked at the boy next to him, who was feverishly chewing his lip. “Good luck on Ravenclaw.” He encouraged. Armin smiled shakily in thanks to him, and then he stumbled up to the stool. The hat took a little longer in its decision, which only heightened the apprehension.

Finally, “Slytherin!” 

Eren thought Armin would be disappointed, but when he looked up, he saw the boy was a little shocked, but still happily content with his placement. He scurried over to his table. Eren clapped for him.

“Marco Bodt!” 

That was a new name. Eren watched as a taller boy with dark, freckled skin and a sunshiny smile sat down on the stool. The hat contemplated for a bit, then, “Ravenclaw!” Eren hopped for an opportunity to talk to the freckled boy later on. He looked nice and friendly.

“Jean Kirschtein!” 

Eren’s smile was quickly wiped into a scowl. Thomas leaned in and whispered again. “He’s definitely going to Slytherin. He’s got the sourest personality I’ve ever met.”

“But Armin got into Slytherin…?” Eren pointed out. 

“Houses tend to run in the family, and his mother’s Slytherin.” Thomas reasoned, before muttering under his breath, “She’s much more likeable than  _ him _ though.”

Whatever the case, as Eren watched Jean confidently swagger his way onto the seat with a smug expression, he hoped the pear-faced boy was put in a house away from him and his new friends.

The hat had barely even touched his gross, ashen-haired (butt)head when it shouted, “Hufflepuff!”

Eren and Thomas guffawed in absolute disbelief, and from the look on Jean’s face, he was just as shocked as he glared in absolute  _ offense _ at the hat now dangling from Nanaba’s grasp. For a second, it looked like he was about to make a giant scene and claim the hat was broken or something, which Eren might’ve agreed on, but then he angrily grumbled something that sounded like, “My mother will hear about this,” and stalked moodily over to the Hufflepuff table.

“Well,” Thomas muttered. “I stand corrected.” 

Eren huffed an empty laugh at Thomas. “You and me both.”

A few more people went by, and Eren was starting to grow a little bored. How many new students still needed to be sorted anyway? Eren looked around and started counting how many were still remaining. One… two… three… four… five… six… seven… ei—

“Eren Jeager!” Eren stood frozen for a second, then rushed up to the stool, (nearly knocking it over, which would’ve been embarrassing) and heavily sat down. The hat was placed on his head, and immediately, the hat began talking to him, analyzing all his different qualities and where he would be best suited. Eren gripped the sides of the stool in anticipation. The hat warred on, trying to persuade Eren to have a bias, but his only preference was  _ away from jerkschtein _ .

And finally, “Gryffindor!”

A toothy smile split across his face as he ran over to his table, getting tackled by Sasha in a hug that seemed a little too premature for we-met-literally-like-fifteen-minutes-ago acquaintances, but it felt good nonetheless. 

The rest of the first years got sorted, and Mikasa and Thomas ended up following that buttface to Hufflepuff (unfortunately), but he was reassured they’d meet up later.

After the sorting ceremony, Professor Erwin had made a short but nice welcome speech and explained that, unless told otherwise, students from different houses could sit at any table they’d like. On house-related occasions or big events, they were to be segregated. 

Then, with a flick of his wand, Professor Smith made an absolute  _ feast _ appear out of thin air along all four tables. Screams of delight came from all over the room as students dug into the food and treats, and Sasha (much to Eren’s dismay) grabbed at everything within reach and shoved it down her gullet, getting food everywhere in the process. But the older students around her just laughed, and Eren eventually concluded that this would probably be the best seven years of his life.

_____

_____

The sleeping arrangements were nothing short of heavenly. Professor Nanaba had taken the smaller cluster of new Gryffindors to the Gryffindor common room, which was a circular room draped in shades of gold and crimson and located in a tower — the Gryffindor tower. She told them the code and how it must always remain secret, and then escorted all the students to their sleeping quarters.

Up the left staircase were the girl’s sleeping chambers, the right staircase was for the boys, and any non binary identifying students were up the middle staircase. There were different rooms in each chamber meant for first years, then second years, then third years, and so on.

One student, whose gender Eren couldn’t pinpoint — not that it was of importance — asked what happened if a student discovered they were trans after a few years. Nanaba had smiled kindly and explained that that scenario was rather common, and that the student would simply switch into the gendered chamber of their new identity. She also reassured the students that it was the same for the other house’s common rooms, the only differences being the colors of the drapery.

Then, Eren and the rest of the Gryffindors were freed to their own devices. Some kids immediately went up to their rooms to organize their things or start a pillow fight, some kids explored around the common room, and Eren found himself following behind the only familiar face in the room: Sasha. She’d apparently smuggled a few pastries in from dinner, earning a few other kids coming over and asking for some (which she’d respond with a possessive growl). 

She and Eren sat on one of the couches by the crackling fireplace in the middle of the circular room as she chowed down, and talked for a bit before bed. She had asked through a mouthful of food about his muggle town homelife, which he’d happily supplied, and he in turn asked about hers. She lived with one parent, her father, in a village  called Dauper in the mountains. She sounded really close to her father, and Eren eagerly listened as she told stories of him teaching her how to hunt. 

_ ‘No wonder she loves food so much.’ _ He thought.

But then she started going off on how to properly gut an animal in  _ vivid detail _ so Eren hurriedly changed the subject before he vomited up his feast of a dinner. 

“I know first years can’t try out for quidditch, but you and Connie want to next year, right?”

“Mhm!” She confirmed, mindful to keep her mouth shut while food was in it this time. 

“What position do you want to try for? I already told you I wanna be a Chaser.”

“Me too,” Sasha said after swallowing. “I’m best with offense. Connie also wants to be a Chaser, but he’s a bit too…. Head-in-the-clouds for that, ya know?”

Eren chuckled in response. “How do you two know each other?” Sasha had taken another bite of pastry and, thankfully, swallowed before responding. “We’ve been friends all our life. He lives in the village down the mountain, Ragako, so we’ve been visiting each other since we were kids. You wouldn’t believe the kinds of mischief we’d cause! Still do, actually.”

Eren laughed. “Oh, I believe.” Suddenly, a loud clap from the front of the common room made both eleven year olds jump. They turned to face Nanaba. “Alright everyone, to bed you get. First day is tomorrow, so get lots of sleep!”

_____

_____

The next day was annoyingly hot for September, so all the students were excused from having to wear their heavy, black outer robes. Though, it just made gross pit stains through the white dress shirts all the more visible.

Eren, like Mikasa had predicted, did in fact get a decent-sized, purple bruise on the bridge of his nose. But, after glaring at it in the mirror for ten minutes, Eren accepted that it wasn’t going away so he instead focused on fumbling around with his red tie, eventually settling on just tying it as a knot. After that, Eren had eagerly rushed to all his classes, having to be slowed down more than once by a professor or prefect. 

His first class was Charms, which was taught by Professor Mike Zacharias. The Hufflepuff was quiet and odd, but clever in the most coy of ways. Not to mention, he was the second tallest man Eren had ever seen in his life, second only to the giant at the train station.

His second class was taught by Nanaba: Transfiguration. He’d already met the shorter woman, and he already knew he liked her. The mere thought of using magic to turn one thing into something else was wild. Unfortunately, the Hufflepuffs and therefore Jean pear-face Kirschtein also had that class with him, but fortunately, they were placed two seats away from each other after Eren made a snide comment about Jean’s muffin top and Jean made one about Eren being a mudblood and they nearly got into a fight before being separated by Nanaba’s magic, so that was something. He’d figured out Nanaba was a Gryffindor, so maybe he could use her possible house bias to be her favored student of the two. Though, considering jerk butt’s self-centered attitude, he may not even need the house bias.

Eren’s next two classes were History of Magic and Astronomy, taught by Professor Eld and Professor Gunther respectively. They were rather boring classes, but failing a core class was not a chipper alternative so he paid attention as best he could. 

Lunch revealed itself to be a less extravagant version of dinner.  _ And _ , he could sit with Mikasa, Armin, Sasha, Connie and Thomas, which was great all on its own. Jean had lunch with him as well, but he cornered himself all the way across the room, having already established his mutual hate for Eren on the first day, (sitting with that angel Marco, oddly enough) so again, Eren didn’t have to worry about him.

Potions was immediately after lunch, which wasn’t the best thing considering how off-the-walls insane Professor Hange proved themself to be. Eren also had that class with Jean, and the two had walked to class from lunch practically flattening themselves to opposite walls, sending glares to each other. Professor Hange had started them off with notes on the first day, but they talked so  _ fast _ that their meek assistant Moblit would occasionally call for Hange to slow down, which they did, but gradually sped up again. Long story short, everyone was scrambling to share with each other what little bits they could decipher from the professor’s rambling. Eren had a ‘We’re All In This Together’ joke sitting on his tongue, but he figured none of the other students would get the reference and stayed quiet on it.

Defense Against the Dark Arts came after, and Professor Keith Shadis, who went into a whole shouting speech about how dangerous the real world was and he had been teaching this class “way before any of you maggots could walk”, so everyone got a handful of what that class would be like within the first five minutes.

Eren’s second to last class of the day was Herbology, taught by a kind and soft-spoken Professor Petra Ral. She was sweet and gave a little run-down of how her class would be graded and the little mechanics of her class. It was a very laid-back introduction to the subject, and Eren could already tell that this would probably be his favorite class. 

Wait, wait, wait, scratch that. Flying was actually his favorite class, but Herbology would definitely come in second place. Flying was taught by the short but no less intimidating Professor Levi, with his assistant Oluo, who quite obviously tried his very hardest to walk in Levi’s shadow, parroting every command the man said and giving people lackluster “menacing” looks. Aside from Oluo and his man crush, flying was awesome. 

Eren’s broom had responded to him after Jean’s, but at least he hadn’t whacked himself in the face with it (now they both had matching nose bruises). Mikasa was by far the best in the class, as her broom had obeyed her immediately and then she’d sat hovering on it with perfect balance. She received a curt nod of approval from Professor Levi. Armin had fallen off his broom, Connie somehow got on it backwards, Sasha got caught eating food during class (really?), Thomas and Marco were told to stop talking more than once, but all in all, it was great. Eren looked forward to playing quidditch next year. 

After classes, kids were basically given free reign to do whatever they liked, be it homework, shower, hole themselves up in their rooms, hang out with friends, or whatever else as long as they didn’t leave school grounds. 

Eren and his new friend group found a nice grassy spot in the courtyard and set up camp, which in their case, meant lying down with books strewn about and refusing to make room for other people to pass by. Armin and Mikasa had their books and Eren’s in a safe pile, at least. (They'll explore the castle later, when they weren't full of stories for each other.)

All of them were talking over each other, telling about which classes they liked and which teachers seemed like the human embodiment of boredom. After discovering that Mikasa and Eren were bilingual — Mikasa speaking English and Japanese, and Eren being fluent in both English and Turkish — they all spent a good long while asking for translations of words and phrases (some of which didn’t have a direct translation). Armin appeared to be the only one genuinely trying to learn their languages, since the translations Sasha and Connie were asking for weren’t the most appropriate, but neither Eren or Mikasa cared. They stayed there for a while, talking and laughing and didn’t realize how much time had gone by until Armin pointed out how dark the sky had gotten. 

They all got their books together, bid each other goodnight, and went towards their house common rooms. Eren and Sasha found a couple other Gryffindors on their way through the halls, and they made shy, light chatter. 

After Eren brushed his teeth, he decided that he should contact his parents and let them know he was doing okay. He didn’t have a phone yet, so maybe he could borrow one from the front office like at his old school?

But as he went to the common room doors, he was stopped by Nanaba. “For what reason are you leaving the common room in your pajamas?”

Eren reddened a little. “Oh… I just wanted to borrow the phone… if there is one? To call my parents…”

Nanaba looked perplexed for a brief second, then realization flashed across her face and she laughed. “Oh! Hogwarts doesn’t have any muggle technology, the frequencies would mess with the magic here.”

Eren was shocked at this information. “Wait, so, there’s no wifi here? At  _ all _ ?”

“Well, it  _ is _ a muggle technology, correct?”

Eren was flabbergasted, but he could gripe to Mikasa later about no wifi, because he still needed to contact his parents in some way.

Luckily, Nanaba seemed to be a step ahead of him. “Now, as for contacting your parents, you can write letters any time you wish, and then give it to an owl in the owlery. You know how the Owl Postal Service works, at least?”

Eren nodded, remembering Mikasa telling him about it on the train, and how an owl was probably the one who dropped his acceptance letter into Hannes’ mail bag. 

Nanaba smiled. “Good. Then you can write a letter now, and I’ll walk it to the owlery while you get into bed. Sound alright?”

Eren nodded again. Having an owl deliver a letter was way cooler than just making a lame old phone call. Granted, this was something most other wizards were probably used to, but it was incredibly amazing to him. 

He excitedly ran back up to his room, tore out a piece of notebook paper from the trunk at the foot of his bed, grabbed a pen (a regular pen, not a quill), and scrawled out a greeting to his parents. He told them about Buttface McGee, his classes, his new friends, and his house sortment. Eren also made sure they knew that this letter was, in fact, going to be delivered by an owl. (They’d probably be able to tell if the owl happened to just land on their roof rather than hijacking Hannes again, but you never knew).

He signed his name, told his parents he loved them, gave the letter to a grinning Nanaba, and happily dove under his covers for the night. He was excited for what more magnificent things he would learn tomorrow.

_____

_____

A week or so later, Eren’s been doing pretty okay. He’s keeping up in his classes more or less, he’s learning more and more about the wizarding world every day, he’s got a pretty solid friend group going, and his parent’s response to his letter was ecstatic. They suggested he invite his new friends over soon, and he figured that over winter break or summer break were his only time slots. All in all, everything was going great.

Oh, and he and Jean had their first fist fight. 

Mikasa had mentioned that Jean seemed to have formed a bit of a crush on her in the Hufflepuff common room (and was doing a terrible job of hiding it, despite the boy’s beliefs), and when Connie and Thomas jokingly confirmed Mikasa’s words, Eren went off on the boy by calling him fat and a loser, and Jean retaliated by calling Eren a mudblood and stupid and everything spiralled down from there. Neither of their noses were returning to a natural coloration any time soon.

Both of their parents would receive word of it, but that clearly wasn’t enough to stop the nasty looks they cast toward each other any time they were within a ten mile radius of each other. Which was pretty often, considering Hogwarts was smaller than a ten mile radius.

They were having a stare-off right now, as a matter of fact, as they passed by each other on their way to class. A whack on the back of Eren’s head broke their angry eye contact. 

“Ow! Mikasa!” 

Snickering from across the hall. Eren turned around to stick his tongue out at Jean, but was dragged away by the neck of his shirt collar (it was still too hot for the robes). 

“Mikasa, let go!”

“No. I told you already, I don’t care about his stupid crush and you shouldn’t either. Drop it.”

Eren wriggled himself free of Mikasa’s grasp and huffed in annoyance. “I’ll drop it when  _ he _ drops it.”

Mikasa shook her head. “Be the more mature person.”

“No. I don’t wanna be.”

Mikasa sighed, knowing there was no way to get through to him. She hoped she would at least be able to keep them from clawing at each other, and maybe they’d survive their first year.

_____

_____

Turns out, Mikasa’s wish was a little too much to ask for. It’s only a few weeks later, and almost immediately after their nose bruises finally went away, the two idiots ended up shoving each other off their broomsticks, nearly cracking their heads open on the ground. 

A thoroughly pissed Levi had publicly told them off, which was embarrassing enough, but to go the extra mile, he took away their brooms for the rest of class and made them sit on opposite ends of the field. Eren tried looking at Mikasa or Armin or any of his friends for mercy, but they all seemed perfectly at ease with this punishment. In fact, Mikasa and Armin apparently thought he  _ deserved _ it! Eren hadn’t even done anything! It was that jerk’s fault!

Jean was evidently doing the same thing as Eren, trying to nonverbally seek comfort from Marco, who was only shunning the ashen-haired boy in response.

Eren grumbled and crossed his arms over his knees, glaring over his forearms at Jean as he sneered right back.

_____

_____

Halloween turned out to be a pleasant break for Eren. A  _ very _ pleasant break for everyone, actually. Classes were way more laid back that day and Nanaba made a show of turning pens, books, desks, and even the chalkboard into pumpkins (the chalkboard made an impressively big pumpkin). Professor Eld even gave a little lecture on the history of Halloween and it's roots among the ancient Celts, which everyone somewhat paid attention to.

But the Halloween feast was by  _ far _ the best part, in Eren’s opinion. The students were allowed to sit at any table they liked, so Eren and his whole group found themselves throwing food at each other and laughing. Mikasa and Armin had forgiven Eren, and smiled along with the festivities. Pumpkins filled with sweets, bat shaped puddings, goblets of “Witch’s Brew” (which was really a fruity punch), pumpkin juice, pumpkin pie, and all sorts of other Halloween-themed foods lined up and down the four tables in the Great Hall. Orange and black streamers hung over the walls, little paper bats flew about the ceiling among the floating jack-o-lanterns which illuminated the room, and thick fog covered the chilly stone ground. It was  _ awesome _ .

The ghosts came out to spook and scare students (and Headmasters, much to Erwin’s dismay and embarrassment), and fly across the room in formations. There were songs as well, none of which Eren knew, but he merrily clapped along anyway. Two tables over, a huge arm wrestling tournament had organized itself, and many students abandoned ship to go over and cheer one of the two opponents on, or to even compete themselves. 

Sasha and Connie loudly rooted for a Ravenclaw sixth year girl who had gone four rounds undefeated so far. None of the lower classmen were going to even attempt it, but found just as much entertainment watching. Eventually, after winning three more rounds against a daring fourth year Hufflepuff, a nervous sixth year Slytherin, and even a Gryffindor seventh year, she was crowned the arm wrestling champion. Laughing students congratulated her as Erwin awarded Ravenclaw ten extra points with a grin. 

_____

_____

Several months later found Eren at home with his parents and new friends during winter break. Sasha, Connie, Thomas and Armin ran about the house, poking and prodding at various “muggle” items in fascination. Even Mikasa curiously fiddled with a few things. Eren’s parents were having the time of their lives explaining things like a coffee maker and pencils to the eleven year olds, and were even more happy with the fact that Eren finally, for the first time in his life, had a solid group of people he could call friends. They even postponed the lecture they were going to school him with about fighting with Jean in favor of bonding with the kids.

Eren’s mom was very pleased when the children asked questions about her Turkish background, toying with little cultural items such as the various patterned carpets, the mosaic lamps in the living room, the çaydanlık, and the blue evil eye necklace Eren’s  büyükanne had given him as a gift when he was born (Eren blushed a little at the last one).

Mrs. Jaeger had offered the kids Salep, which Eren quickly downed to show the others it was perfectly fine (that, and he also loved Salep). Sasha was the next brave soul, who gave a shout in delight after the first hesitant sip before draining the cup and immediately asking for more. Armin, Connie, Thomas and Mikasa had giggled at her, before taking their own tentative tastes. Turns out, the Salep was a hit.

A few snowball fights and a toppled over snowman later, their parents came to pick them up, and the second the door closed, Eren rushed into his parent’s waiting arms. It felt so good to be home, and he had so much to show them.

_____

_____

By the time March rolled around, Eren and Jean had been in seventeen more fights (many of which Jean’s mother would indeed hear about), a good number of detentions, and the school nurse could now recognize them. Both their parents had sent them howler after howler promising an  _ actual _ scolding when the boys returned home if their fighting didn’t stop (Jean pouted at the fact that his own mother hadn't taken his side on any of this). That halted the quarrels for a record three weeks, before they were back at it again.

When his birthday came and Eren turned twelve  _ before _ Jean did, the newfound information only spurred yet another fight. 

“I’m older than you! Hahaha!” Eren teased in a whisper, kicking the back of Jean’s chair in Transfiguration. Nanaba had switched seats around as the year went on, and Eren now sat behind his least favorite person. Both boys were currently sporting proof of their most recent spat; Eren had a split lip and a large band-aid over his forehead, and Jean had a nice purple bruise adorning one cheek bone.

Jean shot a glare over his shoulder at Eren and blindly swat at his face. “Only by a week! And I’m taller than you!” He harshly whispered in retaliation.

“And fatter.” Eren gave his seat another kick.

Jean snarled. “Look at yourself, you’re like a twig! I bet—” Suddenly, a flash of magic hit Jean, causing both boys to give a shout of surprise. When the light fizzled out, Eren and the rest of the class burst out laughing. Jean’s ears were gone, and instead a pair of long, ashen colored rabbit ears protruded from the top of his head. And based on the lump underneath the rear end of his robe, Eren guessed there was probably a bunny tail to match. Jean looked like he was about to cry from embarrassment, but then another beam hit Eren, and suddenly he found himself floating on the classroom ceiling as the rest of the class hollered even louder.

Both boys looked at each other stunned, then up to the front of the class where a stern looking Nanaba stood, wand held firmly by her side. “You two have gone all year disrupting as many classes as you’re put in together, and it is a problem that needs to stop  _ now _ .”

Eren and Jean’s faces were bright red from a mixture of anger and humiliation (well, Jean’s more so since Eren’s dark skin obscured most of the red tint) and Jean’s bunny ears even drooped — they  _ actually _ drooped! 

Nanaba continued. “As punishment for disturbing my class, you two are to remain under these charms until the end of the period, where you’ll see me before leaving. Class, quiet down — is that understood?”

Jean nodded silently, but Eren asked, “But— but how am I supposed to take notes up here?”

Nanaba looked up at him and spoke in a saccharine voice. “You didn’t seem too worried about that just a few moments ago. But if you have, in fact, had a change of heart, then I’m sure Jean would be perfectly willing to share his notes.” Another burst of laughter from the surrounding students. “Wouldn’t you, Jean?”

Jean scowled and muttered something sounding like “My mother will hear about this,” but spat out, “Fine!” under Nanaba’s accusatory glare, ears flattened angrily to the back of his head. 

With that, Nanaba turned back to teaching, and their classmates quieted down, save for the occasional poorly-muffled snicker. Jean reluctantly picked up his quill pen and took notes. Eren, from his spot on the ceiling, could only listen to what Nanaba was saying and pray that it would somehow solidify in his brain because there was no way he’d get anything out of Jean’s god awful handwriting.

_____

_____

“You have god awful handwriting.” Eren commented at lunch. After class, Nanaba had undone the charms and sent them on their way, and here they were two periods later. He and Jean were sitting at the same table for the first time that year, and from the looks Eren’s friends were sending him and Jean from their usual table, they felt just as weirded out about this as the two boys did. Mikasa and Armin looked especially wary, probably expecting another fight that they’d have to break up, but Eren did need those notes. Everything Nanaba had said during the lesson had gone in one ear and out the other.

“Too bad. Either take the notes or don’t.” 

Eren sighed. Jean had a point, unfortunately. 

“Guys,” Marco chimed in. “I know you don’t like each other but all you have to do is copy notes and then be on your way. It’s not a lot.” The three were sitting in the corner of The Great Hall where Jean and Marco usually sat. Eren had talked to Marco a little bit throughout the year, and was still baffled that someone so sweet was  _ best friends _ with someone so sour. But, to everyone their own, or whatever.

Eren and Jean huffed, but Eren took out his notebook and (muggle) pen and started copying what he could decipher from Jean’s barely-legible scrawl. All three stayed quiet as the scratch of pen on paper and chewing sounds filled the silence. Students chattered merrily around them as they ate their lunch. Just when Marco started to let his guard down lest they get into another fight, Jean piped up. 

“What on Earth is that you’re writing with?” Eren paused for a second, confused, then remembered Jean was a pureblood and probably had never seen much — if any — of the muggle world. 

“It’s a pen. Muggle writing tool.” 

Jean went back to being quiet, and Marco relaxed and calmly took another bite of his sandwich. Then, a few moments later, “Where does the ink come from? You don’t have an ink pot.”

Eren stopped writing again. “It’s inside the pen, so you don’t have to keep dipping it.”

Finally, Jean shut up, and Eren hurried to finish copying his notes so he could quickly leave the weird atmosphere and go complain about it to Mikasa and his friends for the last few minutes of lunch. But Armin put up his hand before Eren could even open his mouth. “Don’t wanna hear it.”

“But—”

“Nope.”

Eren grumbled. Sasha, Connie, and Thomas giggled. He listened as they talked excitedly about the delivery of a huge box of candy Connie’s parents had sent him and his four siblings just that morning, and how they were all, including Connie’s siblings, going to open it and dig in after classes. That was enough to take Eren’s mind off Jean, and he joined in the conversation, making jokes and laughing.

_____

_____

 

The House Cup had gone to Ravenclaw that year, but it was an extremely close call with Slytherin. The winning house had them beat by only ten points, which was thanks to the Ravenclaw girl who had won the arm-wrestling competition back on Halloween. Armin had given Marco a congratulatory pat on the back.

Watching the graduating seventh years was a little strange, as a first year. The thought that one day, in a few years, Eren would be where they are now, laughing and smiling with friends and their bright futures just waiting for them made Eren feel warm and happy. 

The train ride home was quite an event. Him, Mikasa, Armin, Connie, and Sasha (Thomas had another group of friends he wanted to sit with, which was fine with all of them) all piled into one compartment with a pile of candy their parents would scold them for if they found out. A large portion of their ride back was dedicated to Armin, Sasha, and Connie asking them how to say various things in Japanese and Turkish again, Sasha and Connie apparently having forgotten everything he and Mikasa had tried to teach them during the year while Armin seemed to remember everything. They giggled all throughout the train ride, imitating the Turkish and Japanese, eating candy, and fooling around with newly learned spells.

At the station, they all waved a sorrowful goodbye with promises to meet up over the summer, then they all parted ways and Eren and Mikasa went towards their own eagerly awaiting parents. 

Eren’s summer was indeed spent hanging out with his new friends, and casting little charms around the house for his and his parent’s entertainment. Most of his charms were weak and small, unable to actually be put to use yet, but his parents told him to be patient and that in time, they will.


	2. Second Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so this is the chapter where I'm gonna need translation corrections. I don't speak Turkish, and there's a whole lotta Turkish in this chapter, so for any of you Turkish speakers out there: PLEASE tell me corrections in the comments! I used google translate lmao
> 
> Also there's this Turkish restaurant around the block from where I live and I LOVE their Jajik and Manti. soooooo good. Ayran tho... yikes
> 
> AMBRIAAAAAA YOU MAKE A CAMEOOOOOOO
> 
> also also also, a new character appears!

“Anne? Baba? (Mom? Dad?)” Eren asked at the dinner table one night, a week or so before school was to start up again.

“Evet balım? (Yes, honey?)” His mother replied, pouring herself some more of their homemade Ayran. She’d taken to only speaking to Eren in Turkish to ensure he stayed fluent. She refused to respond to him if he addressed her in English, only breaking that rule on rare occasions. Grisha didn’t particularly like not knowing what they were talking about, but either Eren or his wife would usually translate for him, and he’d lived with it long enough to get the gist of what they were saying most of the time. He’d more or less given up on teaching Eren to speak German, but he did settle for him being able to at least hear it. Grisha was also very pleased to have his son asking more questions about his medical profession; that was at least something he could teach him about.

Eren took a deep breath, but his mother got to it before he did. “Umarım bu orduya katılmakla ilgili değildir. Bunun hakkında ne hissettiğimizi biliyorsun. (I hope this isn’t about joining the army. You know how we feel about that.)”

“Hayır hayır! Bu konuda değil! (No no! This isn’t about that!)” Eren cried. “Merak ediyordum ... bir evcil hayvan alabilir miyiz? (I was just wondering... could we get a pet?)”

Carla put the pitcher of Ayran down in thought, while Grisha asked, “Could we get a what?”

“A pet, Baba. Evcil Hayvan.” Eren supplied. His father hummed in thought, exchanging a glance with his wife before turning his attention back towards his son. “Well, that depends. What kind of pet?”

Eren chewed his lamb and shrugged. “I dunno… maybe like a dog, or something. Fish are boring, turtles are boring, I don’t like cats, frogs and lizards are cool but you can’t play with them… uh… hamsters and guinea pigs and bunnies and stuff are cool. I don’t want a hedgehog, though. A bird would also be cool. Oh! We’re allowed to bring owls to school if we have them!”

His parents chuckled at his rambling. Grisha rumbled, “My, my, you seem to have thought this all out.”

Eren blushed but nodded, taking another bite of his meal.

“Well,” Grisha grunted, pausing to take a sip of his Ayran. “We’ll think about it. It’ll be _your_ pet, so you'll have to take care of it full time, which means it should be able to go to school with you.”

Eren nodded, concluding that his prospects were narrowed down to either a cat (ew), a toad (okay), or an owl (yes!).

But Grisha wasn’t finished. After discussing quietly with Carla, he turned back and stated, “It also depends on how you plan on behaving towards that boy Jean this year.” If the sound of a record player screeching to a stop could happen in real life, it would have.

Eren’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “Meaning…?”

“We want you to stop bullying each other, and try to get along.”

Eren blanched.

“I don’t exactly know all parts of the story, or what made you hate each other so much, but it’s something you need to step up and resolve. If that doesn’t happen, no pet for you.”

“But I’m not bullying him! He’s bullying _me_ ! He's a jerk!” Eren protested, but his parents silenced him with glares. “ _Try_ to get along this year. You're twelve years old, you should know better than to act like that. You don't have to like him, but you can't get violent with him. If you stop being mean to him, I’m sure he’ll leave you alone. And if he doesn’t, then you tell an adult and _they’ll_ deal with it. Got it?” Eren let out an indignant groan but Grisha continued. “If we hear of another fight, no pet.”

“Ve bu son. (And that’s final.)”

Eren looked angrily down at his half-eaten lamb as his parents changed the subject to Grisha’s dads, who were supposed to visit that weekend.

_____

_____

 

Seeing his friends at the station, bright and ready for their second year, was a nice welcome back. They all rode in the same train  cabin again, Thomas with a different crowd, talking over each other about how their summers went, remembering things they did together (like Eren taking his friends to a muggle beach for the first time, Armin rambling non-stop with trivia about the ocean), and then laughed when Connie tried to make a candy wrapper levitate, but somehow levitated himself instead. Armin and Sasha helped him down, chortling the whole time.

They didn’t leave the cabin the whole ride, so Eren (thankfully) didn’t have a repeat of last year with Jean. At this rate, he had a pet owl in the bag!

By the time they’d all made themselves comfortable in the Great Hall (separating, sadly, based on house tables), the next batch of first years came in and got sorted. Eren reveled in the deja vu this turn of events threw at him, now that he had already gone through all that. However, half-way through the sorting ceremony, he made awkward eye contact once with Jean at the Hufflepuff table. Eren quickly looked away before he could receive the other’s glare.

 _‘Just don’t interact with him, Eren.’_ He told himself. _‘Then we won’t fight, and my parents will get me an owl!’_

He still found himself idly wondering again how and why on Earth _Jean_ , of all people, got placed in Hufflepuff.

_‘Don’t think about him!’_

Eren looked around the Great Hall for something to distract his mind. Turns out, that something happened to be Sasha waving her hand in front of his face.

“Hellooooooooo! Anybody home?”

Startled, Eren shook his head while Sasha cackled at him. “You got scaaared!”

“I wasn’t _scared_ !” Eren flushed. “Just _surprised_!”

“Which is just another word for scared!” Sasha giggled.

Eren was about to defend his pride further, but Sasha beat him do it, lowering her voice after an older student nearby shushed them. “Relax, buddy. I’ve just been wanting to ask you, since we’re no longer first years, are you thinking about trying out for quidditch?”

Oh. He _had_ been thinking about trying for quidditch over the summer. A lot, actually.

“Yeah, we both wanna be Chasers, right?”

Sasha nodded with a grin. “Right.”

“Do we know when tryouts are?”

Sasha shook her head this time. “Nope. Gonna hafta’ ask Levi ‘bout that.” Eren hummed in response. “We don’t have flying this year either, so let’s go to find him at lunch tomorrow.”

The last first year rushed over to the Slytherin table, as Nanaba carried the stool and hat away and Professor Smith walked towards his grand podium. The man cleared his throat.

“Students, welcome back to another year at Hogwarts. First years, you’ll soon get used to how things work here…”

Eren zoned out for the bit aimed towards the first years, but then Erwin’s speech shifted to that of something called the Triwizard Tournament, which he informed everyone would not be held at Hogwarts this year, but at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Apparently, this event would require Erwin’s and the entire grade of seventh year’s absence for a large portion of the year, and that one of the seventh years was to be chosen as the Hogwarts champion from the “Goblet of Fire”, which was already at Durmstrang. The seventh years and Professor Erwin would be leaving the day before Halloween.

Since the event wouldn’t be at Hogwarts, the Headmaster also encouraged the students to read up on it in the newspaper if they wished. Eren had to ask a fifth year next to him what the Triwizard Tournament even was, earning him a rushed summarization of everything. It sounded dangerous but entertaining nonetheless. He made a mental note to check it out later.

Then, same as last year, Erwin flicked his grand ebony wand, and conjured up a marvelous feast down all four tables, and same as last year, shrieks of delight could be heard all throughout the hall as the students dug in.

_____

_____

 

After the dinner, Eren, Sasha, Armin, Mikasa, and Connie slugged themselves and their full stomachs into the library. The group made themselves comfortable in a little reading corner, and the sky outside turned bright orange as the sun started to set. Sasha was busy educating Eren in the ways of quidditch since he desperately needed to catch up, while Connie babbled about his crush on some woman on the Norwegian National Quidditch team (Sasha teased him relentlessly about that). Mikasa listened quietly in amusement while Armin curled up in one of the arm chairs with a thick book about the history of quidditch, occasionally supplying little facts and tidbits of information from the book to aid in teaching Eren.

Mikasa was the one to point out the night sky outside, then they all parted ways to head to their own common rooms.

Once inside the Gryffindor quarters, Sasha went up to the girl’s chambers, while Eren ascended the stairs to the boy’s chambers. Each gendered chambers had separate rooms for first years, second years, third years, and so on. Eren introduced himself to his new bed and trunk in the second year boy’s room (all the beds were exactly the same as the first year beds, only this time he was placed the farthest from the door). Other boys were getting changed, already sleeping, tending to a pet, or writing a letter, so Eren brushed his teeth and changed into his own pajamas.

Eren’s night was filled with dreams of himself flying around a quidditch pitch, doing cool flips and tricks he knew he wasn’t actually able to do (yet). Sighing contently in his sleep, he was ready for what second year would bring him. He and Sasha were going to be Chasers, and he was going to get his own owl.

_____

_____

 

Eren’s classes themselves hadn't changed, just the order of his schedule. While he hadn’t become Nanaba’s favored student over Jean, Eren had become a bit of a class pet to Professor Ral in Herbology, and it showed when she gave him a big hug upon seeing him again.

“Eren! So nice to see you again! I hope you had a nice summer.”

Eren smiled as other students shuffled in and took their seats. “I did, thanks.”

The professor was apparently shorter than average for her age, even if she was taller than his twelve year old self. As the last students sat down, she walked back to the front of the classroom.

“Alright students, we all know each other now, and nothing in my class has changed so I don’t need to introduce anything new to you. We’re going to get right to work—”

Half the class groaned, but Eren was among the few who were actually excited. He really did like Herbology. It would come in handy in the medical field, his father had told him.

“—on a little project. Now, don’t be like that.”

As Petra went on, Eren looked around the greenhouse. He was proud with himself for remembering the names of a few plants he saw, even though 90% of the room was unidentifiable. Then again, he only had his first year knowledge on him, so he was sure to lower that percentage as the year went on.

Warm September sunlight streamed in through the glass panels, bouncing off shiny green leaves. Eren gazed out of the glass walls at the large garden that expanded for kilometers around the little Herbology classrooms. Some fields were used for farming the many fruits and vegetables that Hogwarts fed their students, while other acres were solely for the purpose of education.

“—this project will be worth a whopping 30% of your grade for the first trimester, so I hope you all take it seriously.” Professor Ral was saying.

She had a student pass around small guide packets to everyone. “You can work in groups of up to three people, two people, or alone. If you work in a group, the labor must be divided evenly among you. And don’t think you can laze off without me knowing — I’m a fully trained witch, so none of your little tricks will be getting by me!”

With that, this students started choosing their groups. Eren and Armin immediately found each other, and since they were both so fond of this class, they shared a knowing grin that this first project would be a piece of cake.

_____

_____

 

Unlike last night at dinner, Jean didn’t make any sort of eye contact with Eren in the hall on their way to lunch. Even though they were heading in the same direction at the same walking pace and Eren kept casting challenging glances at him, not once did Jean acknowledge his presence. He even moved behind a crowd of older students, blocking himself from Eren’s view entirely.

 _‘Coward.’_ Eren thought, huffing. _‘Maybe the loser’s mom gave him a lecture as well.’_

If Eren could get _Jean_ to start a fight, then he’d be able to rattle him out and have the school deal with him without Eren taking any blame, but it didn’t look like that was happening, which only angered Eren more.

_‘Gosh, he’s so annoying!’_

Well, whatever. He found Sasha in the Great Hall at their same table spot as last year, then the two of them told Connie, Armin and Mikasa they were going to find and ask Levi about quidditch tryouts. They then ran out, went through some corridors, exited the main building, and charged down the dirt paths to the quidditch pitch, where they found Professor Levi snarling insults at a nervous class of first years.

Sasha was the brave one. “Excuse me, Professor Levi?”

He turned to her sharply. “ _What_.” He hissed.

Sasha’s expression stayed innocently cheery. “We wanted to ask you about quidditch tryouts; when are they?”

“On Friday, after classes, you idiots.” Professor Levi huffed. “What, did Erwin not put the notice on the bulletin? Fucking incompetent—” Levi grumbled something further, then shouted at the first years to stay right there, as he most likely stormed off to yell at the Headmaster.

Sasha and Eren stared after the short (and short-tempered) man in awe.

“Wow.”

Eren observed, “They must be pretty close if Levi’s allowed to insult and shout at the Headmaster like that. Anyone else, and they would’ve been fired!”

“Wow.” Sasha repeated.

_____

_____

 

Friday comes fast. Eren and Armin hand in their Herbology project, confident in an easy first A, then the whole group heads down to the quidditch pitch.

There are quite a bit of second, third, and fourth years from all houses there already. Many are talking, stretching, or goofing off, while Professor Levi makes a lap around the pitch, checking that everything is clean and in prime condition before the bloodbath begins. The wooden towers around the pitch are barren of any patriotic house colors, since the first game of the year isn’t for a while and the representative decor therefore isn’t necessary. The sky is sunny with clouds rippling across it, and the air is warm but windy — typical for early September.

Eren, Sasha, and Connie, despite their tough exteriors, get nervous by the amount of competition there is. Mikasa and Armin find a bench to sit the Gryffindors and Hufflepuff down on.

“You guys are gonna do great, honestly, you’ve got this!” Armin encourages as Mikasa corrects the straps on one of Connie’s shin guards.

“Thanks, Arm.” Eren says, looking anxiously down at his broom. Everyone here has the same broom, administered by the school. That’s another thing Eren wants besides a pet owl — his own broom.

“Chasers are meant to be agile.” Mikasa reminds. “Don’t try to head-on anyone, just dodge and make goals.” The three of them nod. “Good luck.”

A whistle is blown from across the field, so Armin and Mikasa wave goodbye as they and other students who came to watch the try-outs head up the spectator towers. The hoard of students decked out in clunky quidditch gear (also administered by the school) rush forward to meet Levi in the center of the field.

“All right, you shit heads!” He calls out, but then interrupts himself to shoo away some students who got too close for his liking. He refocuses, and says a spell which more or less gives his wand the effects of a microphone (which awes Eren).

“I’m not gonna bother with the pleasantries. If you came to tryouts _without_ a specific quidditch position in mind and are just hoping for a random spot, you can leave the field now. Keeper tryouts are first, then Beaters, Chasers, and finally, Seekers, since that position takes all goddamn day. Got it?”

The group nods silently. Connie, Sasha, and Eren exchange nervous but determined glances.

“Fucking wonderful. Everyone who isn’t trying out for a Keeper spot, fuck off.”

Everyone stands frozen for a second, put off by the coach’s blunt, foul-mouthed demeanor, but then students who aren’t interested in becoming Keepers start trickling to the wooden spectator stands to wait for the position they’re goaling for to be called. Connie, Sasha, and Eren find Armin and Mikasa sitting up near one end of the field, close to a set of goal hoops, tell them what Levi said, then get comfortable in the stands as they watch the Keeper tryouts begin.

Levi sends two of them into the field at a time, one Keeper for each side of the pitch. He has two upperclassmen — a big, burly, blonde Gryffindor named Reiner and a tall, sweaty, brunette from Ravenclaw named Bertholt — toss Quaffles at them relentlessly, which the Keepers then try to block from getting into all three of the goals. The upperclassmen are instructed to not hold back, so Quaffle after Quaffle make it past the hopelessly trying students. Eren feels bad for them.

When half of the Keeper tryouts are miserably sitting on benches down on the pitch, Eren lets his eyes wander around the large spectator stands. People are scattered all around the benches, and directly across the pitch from him are the small figures of onlookers, but the distance is so much that their faces only look like white, tan, and brown splotches.

Halfway around the pitch, Eren can actually make out the faces of people sitting in the stands. Some are familiar from last year, but he only remembers a few names. Some he doesn’t recognize, but one he does — is _Jean_.

Eren feels a scowl forming on his face before he can think. Dorkirschtein’s leaning against the wooden railing with his chin resting on his forearms, quietly watching the tryouts. He’s wearing his regular school robes, Eren notices, so that means he’s not trying out, just watching. Eren realizes Marco’s sitting next to Jean, looking sympathetically down at the Keeper lot.

At that moment, Marco leans over to Jean and says something to him. It's too far away to hear, and Eren curses his inability to read lips. Marco points down at the quidditch pitch as he speaks, then Jean shakes his head and says something much shorter back, returning his chubby head to his chubby forearms. Eren sees Marco cast a sad look at Jean, then goes back to watching the last two Keeper tryouts fly up to the hoops.

Eren wonders what they talked about. Why wasn’t Jean trying out?

 _‘Maybe the fatass realized he’d weigh the broom down.’_ Eren snorts scornfully.

He goes back to watching the tryouts as the sweaty Keeper bunch trudge lugubriously up the spectator tower steps. Beaters are going next.

Beaters are the ones that carry bats around and try to hit the Bludgers at the other team. They’ve essentially got the most violent job on the team, and therefore need to be more bigger, muscular and durable in order to be good. Only some of the Beater tryouts down there fit the description, while others look like they’re in gear a few sizes too big.

For these tryouts, Reiner and Bertholt get to stay seated on the benches. Levi sends the students up four at a time, in teams of two. They have to hit the Bludgers back and forth at each other until one team racks up fifteen misses, then all four leave the field. There’s an uneven number of Beater tryouts, so one team gets three people and when Levi receives complaints of, “That’s not fair!”, he replies with, “Tough shit.” (he's still got the microphone wand going so everything he says is heard all around the pitch.)

Out of the corner of his eye, Eren sees Marco talking to Jean again. He still can’t decipher what’s being said, but Marco’s face shows that of consideration and he points again down at the quidditch field and the tryouts. This time, Eren sees Jean’s expression turn angry, and he sharply sits up and seems to accuse Marco of something, who immediately waves his hands and denies whatever it was. Both their expressions soften, and Jean looks down at his hands. Eren thinks they’re apologizing to each other, or something. His curiosity is killing him.

Levi’s whistle blows again, and Eren’s attention snaps back to the field. Chasers are up now.

He, Sasha, and Connie scramble down the wooden tower steps, their brooms clanking noisily when they knock against the walls. They merge with the other Chaser tryouts from around the field, and Levi starts to instruct them on how their tryout will work. It’s basically as Mikasa said: make goals, and Reiner and Bertholt will try to block.

The first three Chasers to go are three Slytherins, so Eren and his friends sit on the benches beside the tower they’d just come out of. Eren looks up at the spectator stands and makes eye contact with Jean. He glares challengingly, but Jean breaks the connection and intently stares at the three Slytherins. Eren recoils in shock when he sees instead Marco meeting his heated, angry gaze.

He looks away.

“Geez, what on Earth did you do to make _him_ mad?” Connie whispers, apparently having bared witness to everything. “I’ve _never_ seen him angry before!”

“I don’t know.” Eren says to the ground honestly. He really had been hoping to make friends with the freckled boy. He hoped whatever it was Marco was mad about was easily mendable.

Suddenly, Levi’s shouting at him. “You and Braus, get out there!”

Eren and Sasha hurry to comply. They hop onto their brooms and quickly head up to meet another Slytherin girl hovering midfield.

“I’m Ambria.” She greets, bringing her goggles down over her fiery brown eyes. “Good luck.”

“You too.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Levi harshly blows his whistle and simultaneously throws the Quaffle up into the air. Eren immediately rushes for the ball and catches it, fumbles a little, then dashes straight towards the middle goal where Reiner is grinning. He gets closer, but suddenly Bertholt appears out of nowhere, so on instinct Eren swerves up and out of the way. He hears Ambria shouting something at him, so he hurriedly tosses the Quaffle down to her.

Ambria snatches the ball, and zig-zags around the gangly Ravenclaw, then tosses the Quaffle towards the lowest goal, but Reiner is already there and punches it away.

Sasha swipes up the Quaffle from the sand, and makes a big loop around towards Eren. She raises her arm up as if she’s going to pass it to him, and he has his hands ready, but then she changes direction at the last second and chucks it toward the middle hoop. It almost makes it in, but Bertholt and his long legs kick it out just in time.

“Woo! Lil’ snake eyes over here!” The Gryffindor bellows with a toothy grin.

Ambria regains the Quaffle, and tosses it to Eren. He tosses it to Sasha, who tosses it back to Ambira, and they continue this as they get closer to the hoops. For three twelve year olds, and ones who’ve just met, they’re working incredibly well together. Eren makes eye contact with Ambira to tell her he’s gonna go for it, but then Reiner intercepts her throw.

“Gotcha!” He laughs, catching the Quaffle. He starts flying away from the goal hoops.

Eren hears Ambria and Sasha give indignant shouts, and he darts forward after the blonde, fully intending to steal the Quaffle back. Somehow.

He’s gaining distance on the fellow Gryffindor, who's making a big arc about the field, but then the older student sharply changes direction, and Eren finds himself almost ramming his broomstick into a spectator tower.

“Careful now, Jaeger.” He hears a familiar voice taunt from above him.

Eren snarls up at Jean. “At least I’m actually trying out instead of sitting on my fat arse!”

He flies off towards the Gryffindor before he can receive Marco’s glare. Reiner isn’t trying to make a goal, he’s only testing their stealing abilities. The Gryffindor makes to doge around Ambria, but Sasha is behind her, and rams head first into his side as he turns.

The blonde lets out a cry of pain, and Eren seizes the opportunity to steal the ball from his grasp, and flies forward towards the top goal. He can see Bertholt out of the corner of his eye, but then Ambria cuts him off.

Everything is in place. There’s nothing in his way of making a goal. He nears the tallest hoop, raises his arm, and throws the Quaffle in.

“Aaaaand, point!”

He, Sasha, and Ambria share woops and hollers of cheer. However, they don’t manage to make any more goals after that. They have several close calls, but no more points gained. The Gryffindors and Slytherin lower off their brooms, tired and bruised. It is slightly relieving to know that no one else was able to make more than one goal either, so there’s something.

They all sit down with the other Chaser tryouts who've already gone, and chat idly as the last group — Connie, a Ravenclaw, and a Slytherin — go up into the air next.

“Woo! Go Connie!” Sasha shouts up at their friend.

Connie turns around and gives her a grinning thumbs-up from his broom.

“You got this, Con!” Eren hollers.

Levi blows the whistle, throws the Quaffle up, and the round begins.

Long story short, it goes less than spectacular. The trio makes no goals, and they don't come very close either. They're just not at all coordinated, and aren't working together well. One of them would rush in alone, without the support of the other two, and get crushed as a result. Eren and Sasha can see them getting distraught and frustrated.

When the whistle is blown again to signal the end of the match, Connie throws his broom to the side and runs off the minute his feet hit the ground. The other Ravenclaw and Slytherin players do the same, running in different directions. So, like the two other player’s friends, Sasha and Eren chase after Connie.

The shorter boy has left the quidditch pitch entirely, and they can see him charging down the dirt path with his yellow cloak flapping behind him, furiously wiping at his eyes. Eren hears Mikasa and Armin’s footsteps thumping behind them, as they definitely saw everything from up in the stands.

Connie runs over one of the bridges and into a little patch of wooded area near the Hippogriff stables. They follow in after him. He becomes harder to keep track of between trees, but eventually the boy stops — panting — and slumps down against a tree, quietly sniffling.

The four friends slow down their paces as they near Connie, and Sasha crouches down in front of him.

“Hey, Con-Man… you wanna talk about it?” She asks softly.

“No.” Connie’s voice is slightly muffled since he's curled up and hiding his face.

Sasha sits down next to him with a grunt, leaves and twigs crunching under her weight. Armin, Eren, and Mikasa stay standing. Eren is aware in the back of his mind that the Seekers are probably going now. How long has it been? He looks up and sees the sky painted orange from the sunset. Just a few hours before curfew.

“You could still make it on the team, you know.” Armin weakly says, but they all know that's a lie.

“No I won't!” Connie sobs. “It went awful!”

“Okay, yeah, it did.” Sasha admits, and Eren looks at her in horror but she isn't finished. “But it's not the end of the world though… right?”

Connie says nothing, keeping his face buried. Sasha presses further. “There's always next year, and besides! You're good at plenty of other stuff besides quidditch!”

Connie huffs. “But I wanted to be good at this!” He chokes back a little sob, and Sasha drapes her arm around him in a side hug.

“It was in front of everybody! I'm never gonna be able to look any of them in the face again! And there's nothing you can say because everyone saw!” He cries, still refusing to look up.

Sasha squeezes him a little, then quietly tells him, “Everyone saw that you all tried your very best, and that’s all anyone asked for, right? You guys are all great on your own, just not together is all.”

Connie lets out a little sniffle. Eren sits down in front of them as Sasha continues. “Not everyone works great the first time ‘round.”

“You and Eren did.”

“Call it beginner’s luck.”

Eren kind of wants to deny that claim but he knows now isn’t the time or the situation.

“You gave it your all, and even if you don’t make it in quidditch this year, there’s plenty of other things you _will_ make it in. You’re amazing, Con, and one flumped quidditch tryout isn’t gonna change that.”

Everyone stays quiet for a little while, as Connie silently wipes at his eyes. He finally lifts his head and looks shyly at Sasha. “Thanks, Sash…”

She wraps him in a big hug, and Eren, Armin, and Mikasa join in. Connie laughs despite the tear tracks down his cheeks. “Thanks guys.”

After brushing the leaves and dirt from their behinds, they decide that none of them really want to watch the last half of the Seeker tryouts, so they leave the forest and head back down the path towards the main castle. The sky’s gotten darker since Eren last checked, and they’re all starting to feel the exhaustion from the week.

They have one last group hug in the main corridor before bidding each other goodnight. Mikasa and Connie head towards the Hufflepuff common room in the Kitchens, Armin going in the direction of Ravenclaw tower, and Sasha and Eren trailing away towards the Gryffindor tower.

Eren tiredly trudges up the staircase to the second year boy’s room as Sasha does the same, and sinks into his mattress after changing into his pajamas and brushing his teeth. He’s happy with how his and Sasha’s tryout went, and sympathizes for Connie. He’ll try and do something to cheer the other boy up. As he drifts off to sleep, Eren forgets about Jean’s strange passiveness and Marco’s glare.

_____

_____

 

Eren spent that weekend exactly like he did every weekend during first year: sleeping and then rushing to do homework at last minute. It was relaxing up until the last few hours, so Eren never really bothered to change his ways, no matter how much Armin chided him for it.

Monday came, and after doing some last minute worksheets during lunch (getting food on them in the process), Eren, Sasha, Connie, Mikasa, and Armin ran out to check the bulletin for who made it onto quidditch teams.

Connie let out a sigh upon seeing his name nowhere on the Hufflepuff list, as he’d expected. Armin gave him a pat on the shoulder.

Sasha and Eren however, shouted in delight when they saw their own names under the Chaser positions on Gryffindor. They hugged each other and jumped up and down in joy; they made the team!

Connie, despite his inevitable disappointment, congratulated his two exuberant friends. He honestly was happy for them. The group of friends cheerily made their way back to the lunch room, and helped themselves to cookies in celebration. A few kids around them who were trying to read or focus on work told them to be quiet, (which Armin, Connie, and Mikasa did) but Sasha and Eren were too excited to care.

_They were Gryffindor chasers._

That night, Eren immediately wrote home about it. He expressed his immense joy through many capital letters, an excessive amount of exclamation points, and a little drawing of himself on a broom with as much artistic talent as he could muster (which isn’t a lot — Eren’s not an artsy person). He gives it to Nanaba, who is perfectly content with being his messenger again, and happily drifts off to sleep.

_____

_____

 

All next week, Eren couldn’t stop thinking about two things: quidditch, and Marco’s apparent hatred for his guts. He only has a few classes with the freckled boy, but in each and every one so far, Eren’s caught him casting furious stares his way. In response, he’s only been avoiding Marco as much as possible because _wow he can be intimidating when he wants to be_ , but despite his infuriated demeanor, Marco also seems to want to talk to Eren about something.

It’s driving Eren up the wall, because _what did he do_ ? He’s given it a lot of thought. Marco’s best friends with Jean (somehow), and Marco and Eren _were_ on pretty good terms before the quidditch tryouts. Marco knows Jean and Eren hate each other, but he’s only ever expressed exasperation towards _both_ of them any time they start fighting (which hasn’t happened this year, amazingly).

Huh.

Maybe something happened at the tryouts? Eren didn’t interact with Marco or Jean at all before Marco started glaring at him. _What was it Jean and Marco were talking about during the tryouts?_

Eren thinks, based on Marco’s pointing, that the freckled boy was trying to convince Jean that he’d have a decent shot of trying out, but based on Jean’s curt response, he’d probably said no.

But… that wouldn’t have anything to do with Eren, would it? So, he’s still lost as to what Marco could possibly be angry at him about. He figures he’s going to have to muster up some courage and actually talk this out with the freckled boy sooner rather than later, if he really wants this issue resolved. (Funny, how Eren’s more willing to solve things with Marco than with Jean.)

On the next Monday during lunch, Eren shyly shuffles up to where Jean and Marco usually sit. Upon noticing him, Jean gives Eren a weird look, and Marco looks up at him in in surprise and guarded curiosity.

Eren mumbles out, “Hey, uh… Marco? Could I talk to you… in the hall?”

Marco and Jean share an odd look, then Jean shrugs in a, _‘Whatever. Your decision, dude.’_ manner, going back to picking at his barely-eaten omelette, and Marco looks up at Eren.

“Sure… ”

He puts his sandwich down and follows Eren down the long tables of chattering students and out into the quieter hallway. They awkwardly stand around for a few moments, as Eren doesn’t talk, but instead nervously kicks at the ground in blatant refusal to meet Marco’s gaze.

Marco coughs. “So…”

“I want to know why you’re angry at me.” Eren blurts, feeling himself blush (Marco probably can’t tell from his dark skin, at least he hopes) but there’s no taking his words back. He stares at Marco with shaky confidence.

Marco’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, then his expression morphs into one of skepticism.

Eren keeps barreling forward, “Because, I really wanna be on good terms with you ‘cuz you’re nice and you’re _never_ angry so this is all kinds’a weird… and… yeah.”

Marco suspicious look becomes a small smile at that, Eren having confirmed that his motives were good rather than bad. The taller boy leans against the stone wall next to Eren, then speaks.

“Well… to start it, I know how you and Jean don’t get along,”

Eren nods, looking sideways at the other boy with concern.  

“And I know that’s not something for me to get involved in, and as you know I haven’t taken any sides since you guys have to sort that out yourselves.”

 _‘Yeah, but I don’t want to.’_ Eren thinks, childishly.

“However, I am Jean’s best friend, and I have every right to take his side when you start crossing lines.”

Question marks start flying around in Eren’s head. He didn’t think he’d crossed any lines, he wasn’t even aware there were lines possible of crossing in the first place. He finally, hesitantly, meets Marco’s stern brown eyes. “C-Crossing lines? I didn’t— I didn’t think I— What did I do?”

“... You really aren’t aware?” Eren shakes his head, starting to twiddle his thumbs.

Marco pauses, then presses forward. “I know Jean’s mom gave him a lecture about your fighting; she told him how being a pureblood doesn’t make you better than others and he should treat everyone equally. I'm a pureblood too you know, but I know that doesn't make me superior. But anyway I’m pretty sure your parents also did the same — giving you a talk. You’ve both been doing a really good job of not fighting this year. I’m impressed, actually.”

Eren feels pride swell in his chest, but he quickly beats it down with a stick. _Not now_.

“But, I want you to stop making jabs about Jean’s weight.”

Eren looks at Marco again in surprise. “His… weight?”

“Yeah. If you end up fighting, you end up fighting, but please don’t make fun of him about that. He’s really sensitive about it, and I’ve already been forcing him to eat properly sized meals, and it’s worrying me. I tried to get him to try out for quidditch, since it’s good exercise and he’s such a big fan, but he refused because he thinks he’ll just weigh the broom down, or at least that’s what he told me.”

Eren feels a sharp pang of guilt strike his chest. That’s exactly the thought that went through his head at the tryouts.

“When I told him he’d make a good Beater, he accused me of thinking that because he’s bigger, which I didn’t! A-and… we apologized, but…”

Eren casts his gaze up to Marco, to see him frantically blinking. Marco takes a deep, rejuvenating breath. “S-sorry… I’m just worried about him. So, just, please stop making fun of him about that?”

Eren nods. “Y-yeah, I’m so sorry… I had no idea…” And he honestly _didn’t_ think it was _that_ personal, just some sort of dirt Eren could hold over Jean’s head during fights. He had no idea he was striking that deep, and it makes him feel awful about himself.

Marco smiles gratefully at Eren. “Thanks. I thought you knew, so that’s why I was angry. I’m happy you’re better than that.”

Eren smiles again. His thoughts are still ragging up a storm, but he smiles. “So, we’re okay?”

“Yeah.” Marco confirms. “We’re okay.”

They go back inside the lunch room. Jean doesn’t look up at them, and his omelette lays untouched.

_____

_____

 

It’s amazing, how it’s only three weeks into his second year and already drama has started stirring up. After his talk with Marco, Eren kept their conversation to himself, unsure if it was his information to be sharing. He went back to lunch with his friends, but it was burning in the back of his mind for the rest of the day.

He did want to talk to someone, but if he tried telling this to his parents, they would only focus on how badly things had gotten and refuse to ever get Eren an owl, despite his genuine promise to lay off.

So, he wrote to the one person he knew would completely understand: his büyükanne. She was the one who had given him the blue evil eye necklace when he was born, as common Turkish tradition would have it. She couldn’t speak English, but luckily for her, Eren could speak Turkish, so there was nothing holding their conversations back. He always turned to her for advice when he didn’t want to talk to his parents about things.

That night, Eren actually used the red curtains around his bed for once, drawing them fully around him for total privacy. He sat on the red and gold blanket, crossed-legged in his baby blue shark-patterned pajamas with a piece of paper leant against a book. He took his pen, and began writing in Turkish.

 

> Hi, büyükanne.
> 
> It’s Eren. I know I haven’t talked to you since my birthday, but I could really use your advice right now. You know that kid Jean (His name isn’t actually spelt “John”) I was fighting with last year? Well we haven’t gotten into a fight this year, but his best friend Marco and I just had a talk because he’s been glaring at me for a while (ever since I tried out for the Gryffindor ~~quiditch~~ quidditch team. I’m a chaser!!!)
> 
> So, you know how Jean and I made fun of each other and called names? Well… I don’t know how to put this any better but one thing I called him was fat. And Marco told me that Jean’s actually really insecure about being fat so I promised to stop. So now Marco and I are cool again, but I’m not exactly sure how I should go about treating Jean now.
> 
> I mean, I feel really awful that I was going that far (I didn’t mean to!) and I really mean it when I said I’ll stop. But I still don’t like Jean because he’s still annoying. So far, we just haven’t been talking at all, and it’s kinda awkward. I’m just not really sure how I should act toward him now. What do you think???
> 
> Love, Eren

 

Eren read his letter over twice. He knew he was better at spelling in English than in Turkish, but he also knew his büyükanne would be able to understand him regardless. Then, feeling satisfied, he pulled back the bed curtains and tiptoed barefoot out of the dark room of softly snoozing boys, and went down the steps to where Nanaba was herding two defiant Gryffindor seventh year girls up to their beds.

“Professor Nanaba?” Eren asked, letter in hand.

The woman turned then smiled, as the seventh years begrudgingly trudged up the the steps. Professor Nanaba took the letter without Eren even asking her to. After the doors closed softly behind her, Eren turned and tiredly walked back up the stone steps.

_____

_____

 

Eren knew that it would take some time for his letter to reach his büyükanne in Antalya, Turkey, and that it would take even more time for her response to get back to him. So in the meantime, he had to make do on his own without her advice.

It shouldn’t be that hard, really, to simply ignore Jean in the few classes they shared for a week or two. Especially since the other boy was ignoring Eren as well.

The thing was, Jean knew what Eren and Marco had talked about in the hall. It was rather obvious from his perspective, a simple matter of adding two and two. He may not seem it at first, but the boy was smart, as Eren had found out.

Eren was in somewhat of a panic one day, because he had History of Magic next period and he’d forgotten to do the homework. Not only that, but he wasn’t exactly doing the best in that class considering his lack of interest in the subject, but it was a core class which meant he needed to pass.

The brunette ran through the hall, dodging around other students, to grab onto the elbow of Jean’s robe, who turned sharply and looked at Eren in surprise.

“Jean,” Eren panted. “Can I copy your History homework?”

Jean blinked a few times, looking incredibly taken off-guard.

“Pretty please? Come on, I promise I’ll repay you!”

Jean finally shook himself out of it and nodded, reaching into his school bag. “Okay… just change it up a little so it doesn’t look like you copied.” Eren nodded frantically and snatched at the sheet of paper. “And be quick about it!”

Eren plopped down on one of the stone benches, placing Jean’s homework next to his own, and hurriedly scribbled Jean’s answers onto his own sheet while Jean stood silently next to him and waited for him to be finished.

“And… done!” Eren handed Jean’s homework back to him and stood up. “Thanks… I uh— I owe you one.”

Jean nodded silently, refusing to meet Eren’s gaze. He took back his paper and then they both resumed speed-walking ( _not_ running) to History class.

The two sat on vastly different sides of the classroom, so luckily Eren didn’t have to interact with him again for the rest of the class. He slung his school bag over the arm of his chair and sat down next to a girl whose name he didn't remember, smoothing out his hair so that it didn’t look like he’d just booked it here from the other side of the castle.

“Alright class, hand in your homework.” Professor Eld droned. Even _he_ was tired, and it was only October.

The teacher didn't even bother getting up to collect the homework himself, but instead picked on someone to go around and do it for him. Jean shot Eren a knowing raised eyebrow when the student came to Eren’s desk, and Eren cheekily put his finger to his lips in response.

This was okay, probably? It wasn't fighting, at least…

_____

_____

 

Two weeks after Eren’s talk with Marco, his büyükanne’s response gets back to him via an owl during breakfast. The letter would’ve fallen splat into his buttered toast had it not been for Mikasa catching it.

“Fanks Bisasa,” Eren says through a mouthful of buttery bread. She makes a grossed out face and chides him for talking with his mouth full. He only chuckles, then his eyes widen when he sees who the letter is from. Armin leans over to read the envelope curiously.

“Oh, who’s ‘büyükanne’ ?” He asks with impressively on-point accent, slathering cream cheese onto his bagel.

Eren swallows before answering. “ ‘Büyükanne’ means ‘grandma’ in Turkish. She can only speak Turkish though, so that’s what I talk to her in. She lives in Antalya.”

Armin hums thoughtfully through his bite of bagel, probably tucking away the bit of information in that giant brain of his. He goes back to eagerly telling the rest of their friends about how he saw the tell-tale giant squid go by the lake-facing windows in the Slytherin common room, which as you may have guessed or already know, goes partially under the Black Lake.

Eren doesn’t want to read his letter out in the open where anyone can lean over his shoulder and look at it. Even if it’s in Turkish and Eren hasn’t met anyone else at Hogwarts who speaks Turkish (he’s met plenty of other Turkish students, but none of them knew any more words besides ‘hello’ and ‘penis’, you know, the essentials), he still doesn’t want to take that risk. The students are supposed to head straight to first period after breakfast, though they’re given a leisurely fifteen minutes, so Eren decides he’ll skim through the letter in the bathroom before he has to get to class.

Once breakfast is over, he immediately heads straight to the boy’s bathroom where morning sunlight streams in from the window high on the wall. He safely locks himself in a stall, leans back against the closed door and tears open the letter. In Turkish, it reads:

 

> Dear Eren,
> 
>  
> 
> I am very pleased to be hearing from you again! I hope things are going well, despite your current circumstances. And congratulations on becoming a Gryffindor chaser! I’m very proud of you, and I’m sure your parents are as well.

 

His parents had been overjoyed when he wrote home about it. Eren smiled to himself, then continued reading,

 

  

> Now, onto your situation with Jean. As panicked as you may be, I feel the solution is much more simple than you may be expecting.
> 
> I know how you two don’t get along, but I also know you never meant for it to go this far. You have a good heart, and this is just a human mistake, so don’t fret. You promised not to tease him about his insecurity, which is noble of you. I trust that you’ve kept that promise well, yes?
> 
> Then, as far as interacting with the boy goes, I think this may be your shot at turning things around. Many of my greatest friendships were born from rivalries, and I’m confident this might be the same for you. Now, it may not, but even still, it’s good to keep an open mind. Give Jean a chance, and I’m sure he’ll do the same for you.
> 
> Best wishes,
> 
> Love, your büyükanne

 

Eren reads the letter over again, just as he had done to his own, then flips the letter over to read the spelling corrections his büyükanne had playfully pointed out in his last letter. He sighs. Did he like what his büyükanne had to say? No. But, she was right nine times out of ten, which meant he put value to her words regardless. Would being friends with Jean be so bad?

 _‘Yes.’_ Eren thought bitterly. _‘If he keeps up his pureblood self-centeredness and his gross crush on Mikasa.’_

But then again, Marco had said that Jean’s mother scolded him for it, so change was always possible. It wouldn’t happen at the snap of a finger, that’s for sure, but it was definitely possible. His büyükanne _had_ said to give the boy a chance, so maybe he should.

Eren exhaled through his nose and folded up his letter. He had less than a minute to get to his first period class, so he could think about this later.

_____

_____

 

“Does Jean still have a crush on you?” Eren whispered in potions as Professor Hange blabbed on about the large, squirming purple tentacle they were currently dropping into a steaming, clear bowl of orange potion sitting in a holder on their desk for the whole class to see. It made the whole room smell like putrid, rotten meat.

Mikasa didn’t look up at Eren from her notes, but answered, “I think so. Although he’s never made a move. He’s probably too nervous to or something, which is good because I don't want to go through the whole rejecting him thing.”

Eren huffs and glances over at where Jean and Marco are whispering to each other a few tables over. So there’s still the crush, but it doesn’t seem like it will be going anywhere, and Mikasa’s feelings aren’t mutual, so maybe Eren shouldn’t pay it that much mind.

“Mr. Jaeger!” Hange yells, pointing at him. “Can you please tell Mx. Joseph over here the three key ingredients for Swelling Solution?”

Eren immediately straightens up and his mind starts whirring for the answer. “Uh… bat spleens… uh… dried nettles… and um…”

He catches sight of Jean waving his arm in the air, and feels a flash of anger. _‘You think I don’t know? You think you’re so smart?’_ Eren notices Armin mouthing something in front of him, sighs, and repeats it to Hange. “And… puffer-fish eyes?”

“Haha!” The Professor cackles, as Jean’s hand goes down and he pouts in Eren’s peripheral vision. Eren feels smug, ignoring the fact that Armin basically saved him.

“That’s correct! I hope you took note of that, Mx. Joseph!” Professor Hange yells.

Said student nods frantically, jotting down what Eren said in their notebook. The Professor continues on their lesson as Moblit softly snoozes at the desk.

_____

_____

 

This year’s Halloween feast went fairly similar to last year’s. Festive decorations and music and food are strewn all about the Great Hall, as laughter and screams echo around the enormous room.

The Ravenclaw girl who won the arm wrestling competition last year is now in her seventh year, and is the one to start up the competition again. Literally the entire school flocks to the Ravenclaw table as the first few competitors clash heads, and some students explain to the curious first years what’s going on.

The Ravenclaw girl goes against another girl from Hufflepuff first, and it seems that over the summer, people have either beefed up or she’s slacked off because the Hufflepuff wins. The Ravenclaw’s a good sport, and congratulates the Hufflepuff. Eren and his group laugh and cheer on the competition as person after person go down on either side of the table. The teachers are looking on in amusement, same as last year.

Eventually, a tall Slytherin boy with vitiligo is crowned the victor, and takes ten extra points to his house. Everyone gives him pats on the back and hair ruffles, as the night of music and celebration starts to come to a close.

_____

_____

 

The year goes on slowly, as Eren and Jean barely interact unless absolutely necessary. Eren participates in his first official quidditch game against Slytherin, and the game would’ve ended in a tie if it weren’t for the Gryffindor Seeker catching the Golden Snitch. When he goes home for winter break, Eren is surprised to find his _entire_ family waiting for him at home to celebrate his win. There’s dancing and music and food and Eren’s büyükanne even makes the visit, which he is ecstatic about.

While he may not have any siblings and an average amount of aunts and uncles, Eren has a hilariously large supply of cousins to make up for it. With ages varying from toddlers to young adults, many games are played throughout his first night back. Eren is overjoyed to be home.

But, when school starts up again and he turns thirteen (a week before Jean does), things go right back to awkward. Eren and Jean get paired up for a project in April when the rain beats against the large castle windows relentlessly. They work quietly in the library on their research, with their scissors and glue and other materials strewn around them. After Eren sloppily cuts out another square of text, Jean finally expels him from doing the artistic part of the project and does it himself.

Eren is silently impressed at Jean’s knack for art based on what he can see from this project, but doesn’t voice this thought. They hand in their project at the end of the week, and are awarded a nice B, then they go right back to ignoring the other’s existence. Every time they happen to see each other, Eren’s thoughts start raging.

_‘I know about a deep insecurity of yours. We haven’t fought once this entire year. What the heck. But hey, I’m getting an owl out of it. I don’t know what the next step is. Do we just ignore each other or actually try to become friends?’_

And Eren is ninety nine percent sure that Jean’s thoughts are screaming something similar, minus the pet owl bit.

However, neither Eren nor Jean start any sort of friendly conversation with each other at any point after that, so the year comes to a bit of an anticlimactic close for Eren. He’d been exchanging letters with his büyükanne all year, ranging from little things like tripping in the hall, to big(ish) things like his latest social problems, and the fact that a nonbinary Durmstrang student had walked away with that year’s Triwizard Tournament cup (and _wow_ are Durmstrang students scary). She’s suggested that it may still be too early for a real friendship opportunity to present itself, but commended him for giving it a try this year.

He’s been talking with his parents as well, of course, but not about his situation with Jean. As far as their knowledge goes, the two boys haven’t gotten into a fight once this year, which definitely warrants Eren’s reward of a pet owl. They promised to talk to Mr. Ackerman and set up a date to go and buy one on Diagon Alley over the summer.

Eren squeals about it to Mikasa, Armin, Sasha, and Connie on the long train ride home. Armin and Mikasa ponder the different species of owls and which kind would be best suited for him, while Sasha and Connie fire out name possibilities.

“Archibald?”

“No.”

“Sir Wadsworth?”

“No.”

“Chante?”

“... No.”

“Arthur?”

“Nah.”

“Watson?”

“Nope.”

“Lancelot?”

“Noooo.”

Sasha and Connie giggle then look at each other slyly. Together, they suggest, “Jean?”

“ _No!_ ”


	3. Third Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unrelated to the story but I planted an okra seed a few weeks ago bc I love okra and wanted to try growing it, but I was doubtful because I live more north of where okra is supposed to really grow. BUT!!! Today when I went to water it, I saw that it's sprouted! I DID THAT.
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is long af and involves owls, food, jean getting a haircut, more food, sexuality questioning via wet dream (unintentional Love, Simon ref lmao), some angst ;) , additional food, and eren and jean finally Smash, but not in the way you're thinking. (WHEN YOU GET TO THE PART, YOU'LL SEE. IT'S SUCH A BAD PUN)
> 
> Chapter six is harder to write than I expected it to be, but I'm slowly sewing it together! Chapter seven should be a breeze.

Ahh. Being thirteen. Do you remember being thirteen? Maybe you’re thirteen now. Maybe the last time you were thirteen was thirteen years ago. Maybe you’re going to be thirteen in thirteen years. Whatever the case, we all know the minute you turn thirteen, it feels great, right?  _ Finally _ , you’re one among the teenagers! You start cursing, wearing black, hating the world, and experiencing the part that adults warned you about the most: puberty.

Eren previously knew next to nothing about puberty besides height growth, a deeper voice, and beards and that was it. That was all he  _ wanted _ to know, but Grisha insisted it would be much to his benefit to be aware of his own body (especially since Eren had started, if his larger eyebrows and little red spots on his cheeks were anything to go by) and so had then dragged his son kicking and screaming into his office to give him The Talk via one of his fat medical textbooks. A traumatized Eren had emerged from the room half an hour later, furiously trying to wipe everything he’d seen and heard from his memory. 

His mom called teasingly from downstairs, “Eren, tatlım, gelip öğle yemeğini yemek ister misin? (Eren, honey, do you want to come and eat your lunch?)”

Eren felt nauseous. “No!” He didn’t even bother to shout it in Turkish.

His mom only laughed at his misery. As an apology, Grisha drove Eren over to the Ackerman’s house in the woods (which still looked like a hazardous game of Jenga to Eren) later that summer afternoon so that he could finally purchase the owl he had been promised. 

Eren ran up to the door in his t-shirt and shorts, eager to both get an owl and forget everything he’d just heard. Mikasa came to the door with a little smile and gave Eren a hug in greeting. 

“Hi Eren.”

“Hey Mikasa!” Eren bound into their house as Mr. Ackerman came from the kitchen, wiping his hands on his pants.

“Guess whaaaaaat?” Eren sang to Mikasa’s father. Mr. Ackerman chuckled and instigated the excited thirteen-year-old. “What?”

“ _ I’m _ getting an owl today!” Eren jested a thumb at his own chest.

Mr. Ackerman’s brow rose in mock surprise. “Woah! Really? I had no idea — you’ve only been talking about it non-stop since summer began!”

Eren playfully punched Mr. Ackerman’s thigh, which the man assured Grisha was fine, no harm done. 

Mikasa asked, “Do you know which kind you want yet?”

“Nah, nah.” Eren answered. “I’m just gonna pick the one I connect with the most. Or the coolest.”

Mikasa smiled and Mr. Ackerman clapped his hands together. “Alright, then we’ll get going then. Grisha, feel free to make yourself at home while we’re out, this shouldn’t take long. If you need anything, please ask Kenta. She’s in the other room — we were just cooking.”

Grisha nodded, thanking Mr. Ackerman, then waved goodbye to Eren before walking into the kitchen to help Kenta cook (to the best of his abilities).

Eren grabbed Mikasa’s wrist and practically dragged her up the many flights of steps to the fireplace room, waiting a few minutes for her father to catch up, panting. 

“My, you kids are fast!” The two giggled as Mr. Ackerman stretched his back with a grunt. His spine popped audibly. “I’m  _ way _ out of shape.” They giggled even more.

Finally, once the trio were in the busy streets of Diagon Alley, Mr. Ackerman lead the way to Eeylops Owl Emporium while making sure the two teens weren’t falling behind in the mass of witches and wizards. The dusty smell of books and the sharp, tangy stench of magic wafted through the air as they followed the twisting and turning cobblestone streets. Eren found himself gazing all around in wonder as Mikasa guided him along by the arm, since he hadn’t been here in two years.

Eventually the three made it to the Emporium, and Mr. Ackerman held the door open as they made their way inside the darkly lit shop. Owls of every breed from every continent on Earth swooped and flew around the large room. Some, the more ill-tempered ones or the ones prone to escaping probably, were confined to their cages, while others perched freely along the stair railing, the front desk, and the many branches sticking out of the walls. Feathers were littered everywhere, which three trolls in aprons were desperately trying to sweep into baskets as more and more fell. Eren had to suppress a giggle at the sight.

A male employee with black and white dreads in a ponytail and a logoed apron approached them with a warm smile and asked how he may be of service. 

“We’re looking for an owl for my daughter’s friend, here.” Mr. Ackerman explained as Mikasa looked around and Eren nodded in confirmation. Mr. Ackerman laughed bashfully. “I have to admit, I’ve never done this before so you’ll have to explain to me how this works.”

The employee chuckled, then went on to tell them about how buying an owl was a little similar to buying a wand in the sense that the owl chooses you. He walked them around the shop, passionately going on about how the Emporium used to be much smaller but had been expanded recently, and how they kept the inside dark since most owls they sold were nocturnal. 

“We have also taken in many more species than we used to. Including  _ this _ very large breed from Africa: the Verreaux's Eagle-Owl.” As he said this, he showcased said owl inside it’s cage.

Eren’s jaw dropped. This owl was indeed  _ big _ . Large black eyes bored into him, unblinking, as Eren took in the huge, rounded, sleek grey feathers, the sharply turned beak, and the intimidating needle-like talons gripping to the stand inside it’s cage.

“—her name is Amina, named after the Hausa warrior queen. It fits because she has a fighter’s spirit; she’s very aggressive, you see. She’s not fully grown yet either, which means — yes — she will get even bigger.”

At that moment for Eren, no other owl existed in the store. This was the one. This was Eren’s owl. 

He hesitantly stepped closer to Amina’s cage, her eyes never leaving him. “Hi, Amina…” He whispered, slowly raising a hand to the side of the cage. A rumbling sort of noise arose from the bird, a challenging guttural growl. 

The employee quickly said, “Uh, I wouldn’t stick my fingers in there if I were you. She could bite your finger off.”

As if to emphasize the man’s words, Amina lunged forward, wings spreading out, and snapped at Eren through the cage. Eren yanked his hand back, and glared at Amina through the thin bars of her cage. “Hey!”

Amina seemed to stare right back at him, and this went on for a few moments with Mr. Ackerman, Mikasa, and the employee panicking in the background. 

But suddenly, Eren understood what she wanted from him. He could see it in her eyes; only someone who bowed their head in true respect to her would be worthy. Only someone who could be patient enough to  _ see _ that would be worthy. 

Ever so slowly, he lowered his head, dropping his gaze to the floor. When Eren heard the growling stop and some shuffling coming from her cage, he looked up. Amina had folded her wings again, and was calmly perched on her stand. She silently tilted her head at Eren, and he knew, he’d done it. 

He turned to the employee, who stood with his mouth gaping. “I want her.” Eren grinned.

_____

_____

 

Amina flew in big arcs over the very top of the Ackerman house as the five humans —the Ackermans, Eren, and his dad — watched in amusement from below. 

Eren jumped up and down, shouting, “Yeah! Go Amina! Go Amina! Dad! Dad, look! That’s my owl!”

Amina’s huge wings flapped as she landed on one of the window roofs to peer down at her new (and first ever) owner. She let out a shrill screech, which echoed over the trees. 

Grisha patted his son’s back, impressed. “That’s one fine owl, Eren. You deserved it.” Eren grinned even wider. Mikasa poked Eren in the side. “I think she sees a mouse.”

They looked up, and sure enough, Amina had her gaze locked onto a normal-looking patch of grass below. All of a sudden, her wings expanded out fully, she leapt off the roof, dove down, and snatched up the squeaking mouse from the patch of grass. Amina’s talons dug into the animal, killing it’s cries, as she carried it to a nearby tree to eat her catch, no doubt.

Eren and Mikasa looked at each other in disgust. “Blegh!” The adults laughed. 

“Alright, Amina!” Grisha tried, getting no response from the rustling tree leaves. Grisha turned to Eren. “Can you get your owl back into her cage? It’s time to go home now.” He said, implying the slowly sinking sun. 

“Okay, okay. Amina!”

Amina responded instantaneously to Eren, already showing signs of unwavering loyalty, and flew over to him, landing on the ground beside the car and then hopping into her cage with a pouty hoot. Eren put the cage in the seat next to him, then waved out the window at Mikasa and her parents as Grisha began pulling out and down the road.

_____

_____

 

> Hi büyükanne,
> 
> I finally got an owl!! Her name is Amina, named after a Hausa warrior queen which is really cool, and she’s a Verreaux’s Eagle-Owl. They’re a really big species, and she isn’t even fully grown yet! She’s super aggressive (kinda like me, dad says) but I figured out what to do to earn her respect to buy her. In the store, it was like I could communicate with her… like I could see it in her eyes. Is that a magic thing? Because that never happened to me with other animals. I’ll have to ask Armin about it.
> 
> Anyway, she’s super cool and her cage is on my desk. She sleeps in it during the day because she’s a nocturnal owl (did you know not all owls are nocturnal?). Since we got her, I’ve been doing a lot of research on owls. Apparently Verreaux’s Eagle-Owls have pink eyelids. I looked for them on Amina and she has them! Cool, huh? Well, in a weird way.
> 
> Mom said that feeding her like a cat or dog would hinder her hunting skills, so at night we let her out to go eat on her own. She’s super loyal and always comes back! It’s also better that we live outside the city so that she doesn’t have to go far to find food. 
> 
> School is starting up soon too. I’m a third year! Mikasa told me that this year, we’re allowed to go to Hogsmeade on the weekends, which is the village where us students get off the Hogwarts Express. Armin says that Hogsmeade is also the ONLY all-wizarding village in all of Britain. Seems appropriate since it’s literally RIGHT NEXT to the school, haha. 
> 
> Also, I had my friends over during the summer a lot, and I showed them video games for the first time! They're super curious about the muggle world. We played Super Smash Bros. and they kept asking questions about the characters. It took them a while to get used to the controllers, haha! Anyways, I hope you’re doing well.
> 
> Love, Eren

 

Eren turned eagerly on his red and black patched bed covers to face Amina, who was just waking up as the night hours began. “Ready to deliver your first letter?” He grinned.

Amina grumbled sleepily in response, not yet willing to leave the comforts of her cage. England to Turkey was a long flight, one regular owls weren’t capable of making. But, Amina wasn’t a regular owl.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that!” Eren chided, bouncing on his bed. “You’re a  _ wizarding _ owl! You’ve got this! And look at your wingspan,” He splayed a hand in her direction to indicate her large gray wings. “Are you really gonna whine to me?” 

Amina made it a point to whine as much as possible, ruffling her feathers and trudging around over the papers on Eren’s desk. He shook his head at her and chuckled, getting up and walking over to where she stood on his desk. She let out a pleased hoot as he reached out a hand to pet her, gently stroking the sleek feathers on her head. 

“Amina, if you don’t deliver this letter, I’m not gonna pet you for a week. And I’ll tell mom and dad not to either.”

Amina let out a shrill, offended screech.

“Well then you’d better deliver this letter!”

She started to growl. 

“Hey, hey, hey, no profanity in this household!” Eren grinned jokingly. In truth, he couldn’t understand her at all, but it was much more fun to pretend that he could. 

He held out the white envelope, and Amina eyed him for a few seconds before begrudgingly allowing him to tie the letter to her leg with a string, taking extra care to make sure it wasn't too tight but also not too loose. She hopped off Eren’s desk and flew over to the open window, perching on the ledge to look back at him expectantly. “Oh! Right — thank you Amina!”

Then she went off into the night. Eren ran over to the open window to watch her slowly go farther and farther away, and jumped a little when he felt a hand caress the top of his head, but relaxed when he saw it was only his mom coming in to wish him good night. She gazed down at him lovingly. “O yakışıklı bir baykuş. (She’s one handsome owl.)”

Eren smiled at her and turned back to admire the summer night sky. Farther out here in more rural areas, they could actually see the stars, which Eren always felt lucky for. “Mhm.” He answered, as the dog from the house up the road started barking, the sound echoing down the street.

Carla threaded her fingers through her son’s hair, which was knotted and a little greasy. She made a noise of distaste. “Banyoya ihtiyacınız var. (You need a bath.)”

Eren sighed, still smiling, and gently batted his mom’s hand away. “Yarın alacağım! (I’ll take one tomorrow!)” He protested, plopping down onto his bed. 

His mom only snickered, then leaned in to give him a kiss on the forehead. “İyi geceler, Eren. (Goodnight, Eren.)”

“Anne, ben onüç yaşındayım, beni sıkıştırmana ihtiyacım yok! (Mom, I'm thirteen, I don't need you to tuck me in!)” Eren cried, leaning away from his mom’s kiss.

Carla outright laughed at him then, pulling back to say, “Hep benim bebeđim olacaksýn! (You’ll always be  _ my _ baby!)”

Eren started to push her out of his room. “ _ Goodnight _ , mom!”

“Türkçe, Eren! (In Turkish, Eren!)” She chortled. 

_____

_____

 

By now, the car ride to the train station and discreetly going through the brick wall to platform 9 ¾ without muggles noticing had become second nature to Eren and his friends. Upon seeing them again, Eren immediately noticed that they all had subtle changes in their bodies as well. Aside from all of them having red spots and greasier hair, Sasha seemed to have hit a growth spurt, and Armin now had braces. Connie was having voice cracks left and right, while Mikasa had started breast development (only the left one, funnily enough). It was a bit comforting to see Eren wasn't alone in this with his own spotted cheeks and caterpillar eyebrows.

The station was crowded with shouting parents and children, as well as the excited hooting and meowing of the many owls and cats in cages that the students were bringing with them. There were toads, of course, but they were quiet as ever and didn’t add to the general racket that was currently platform 9 ¾.

Eren and his friends all gave their parents goodbye hugs as per usual; Sasha and her dad fist-bumped, Armin’s grandpa patted his grandson’s blonde head, Connie and his four siblings gave their parents a big group-hug and Eren and Mikasa hugged and kissed their own parents before quickly dashing onto the Hogwarts Express to snag a compartment before they all got filled up (The Springer five all split up after playfully sticking their tongues out at each other, Connie’s sister and the oldest of the bunch who was now in her final year rolling her eyes at her younger siblings’ antics. This was the younger twins’ first year at Hogwarts). Once secured on the train, Eren proudly presented Amina to his awed friends, while Mikasa sat back, having already met the owl. Amina pridefully preened under all the attention with her chest puffed up as Armin, Connie, and Sasha asked questions about her and shouted about how big and awesome she looked. 

The Hogwarts Express chugged along peacefully as the sky outside turned cloudy and gray, indicating incoming rain, but that didn’t bother the five students as they excitedly caught up over their events of the summer, and discussed things they’d do in Hogsmeade now that they were allowed to go. There were shops of all shapes and sizes in Hogsmeade, specializing in all fields of work. There were joke shops, shops for cauldrons, quills, sweets, sportswear, a bookshop, their very own Ollivanders, and of course, the Hogsmeade Station. 

Two fifth years — a Slytherin and Gryffindor — walking by their cabin had overheard their conversation, and butted in to say that The Shrieking Shack was also quite a spectacle worth seeing. “We’ll check it out!” Armin had smiled at them.

The rest of the cloudy train ride went rather smoothly; the five of them eventually cooled down and snoozed a bit, or gazed relaxedly out the large window at the countryside zooming by. Amina picked and groomed at some of her wing feathers with her beak as her cage rattled minisculely next to Eren, who was zoning out, staring blankly at the window.

Suddenly, they all sat up abruptly as they heard shouting coming from somewhere down the train hall, followed by rapidly thumping footsteps. Sasha moved to meekly peek out their open cabin door, when a little flash of brown sped into their cabin. Connie and Armin shrieked and pulled their legs up onto the seats as Mikasa protectively slapped her arm across Eren’s chest, Eren himself struggling to push her off him and get a look at what had invaded their train cabin.

The thing stopped moving for a few seconds, allowing the five kids to get a look at what it was. It appeared to be an owl — an adorably small owl at that, easily able to fit in Eren’s hand, with big yellow eyes and fluffy brown and white speckled feathers. The owl’s quirky eyes looked around curiously at the room’s awed inhabitants, before landing on Amina, who had taken a defensive stance in her cage, wings bared outward threateningly. The new owl cooed excitedly at the sight of another owl and starting hopping over to Amina, but Amina growled at the unwanted intruder. The owl stopped, and tilted it’s head curiously, letting out a few questioning hoots. 

Mikasa’s arm dropped, and Eren leaned over to look at the tiny owl with a smile on his face. Sasha cooed, “Awww, hey little guy!”

Eren scolded Amina as Armin and Connie let their legs return to the floor. “Amina, he’s just trying to make friends. Be nice!” Amina only squawked angrily in response. “Whose owl is this?” Armin wondered aloud.

Suddenly, Marco came barreling into their cabin shouting, “Thornbeak! There you are!”

The owl whirled around and screeched at the sight of the freckled boy (who had grown three or five centimeters over the summer and now had even more freckles as well as braces, Eren noticed). Marco quickly lunged for the defiant owl, who let out shrill hoots as it danced between the boy’s legs. Kids in the cabin across the hall laughed at the spectacle, and even Eren had to admit, it was quite funny to look at. The little owl made to dart out of the cabin, but Mikasa stepped in the way, allowing Marco to finally land his hands around the owl’s wings to stop it from flapping. 

It yowled in protest, but Marco kept a firm grip on it as he stood up, his usually neatly combed raven hair now ruffled and sticking out at different angles. “Thanks, Mikasa.” He smiled sheepishly as the kids across the train hall slowly lost interest. 

“Don’t mention it.”

Sasha, who was sitting closest to the cabin door where Marco now stood, leaned over to look at the squirming owl — whose name they now knew was Thornbeak. “Is that your owl? He’s super cute!”

“She is cute,” Marco gently corrected. “But no, she’s not my owl. She’s—”

At that moment, Jean came scrambling around the corner with a patch of red on one cheek, and leaned against the door panting. 

“Sorry, I tripped on the door—” Then his eyes widened when he saw whose cabin his owl had wandered into. 

“Thornbeak! What the hell?” He cried, glaring at the owl who was happily chirping away at the sight of her owner. Jean sighed, while Marco, Sasha, Connie, and Armin giggled. Mikasa even showed a small smile. “That’s adorable.” Sasha sniggered. 

“Shut up.” Jean muttered, cheeks pink.

“Wow, rude-uh!” Sasha cried, pretending to be deeply offended and putting pressure on the “uh!”. 

Eren was a little starstruck at the sight of his supposed rival, since he hadn’t seen the other boy in months, and they’d barely interacted at all last year. He observed that Jean had also grown three or five centimeters — unlike Eren — and was slightly thinner, but not by much. His ashen hair looked a little greasy and a few red spots could be seen on his chin and in the creases of his nose, but the most prominent change was his nose itself and his ears, which looked a bit too big for his face. Jean was wearing a black turtleneck sweater, which looked nice and new, with yellow rings on the neck and sleeves to indicate his Hufflepuff House. The boy was also avoiding Eren’s gaze. 

Eren cleared his throat and tried to ease the tension. “I didn’t know you got an owl, Jean.”

Jean weakly gestured to Thornbeak in Marco’s hands. She let out a little curious cry. “Well I did.”

Eren scratched his cheek, then stopped when he remembered his own acne. “Me too.” He glanced down at Amina, who had folded her wings but was still glaring pensively at Thornbeak. 

Jean regarded the large gray owl with a bit of an uncomfortable look. “Cool.”

“Her name’s Amina.”

“... Cool.” Jean repeated.

Armin broke in. “Thornbeak looks like a… Northern Saw Whet Owl, am I correct?” 

Jean and Eren’s eyebrows shot up, as did everyone else’s in the cabin, impressed. Jean answered. “Uh… yeah, she is. Wow, Armin.”

Armin smiled. “Thanks, I like to do my research.”

Jean nodded, and it went back to awkward silence before Marco decided to end everyone’s suffering. “Well we’ll be outta your hair now, then. See ya, guys!” 

Then he quickly ushered Jean and himself out of the room before things could get more unbearable, Thornbeak giving off one last mournful squawk before being taken out of sight. Amina relaxed and Mikasa gently slid the door shut. It was quiet for a few moments. 

“Weeeell,” Connie broke the silence. “Someone’s gotta break the ice, so it may as well be me. That was the most awkward thing I’ve  _ ever _ had witness in my life.” He emphasized the “ever” with a slashing motion of his hand.

Sasha snickered while Armin faced Eren and said, “Yeah, you went from fighting every other week to ignoring each other, to  _ this _ .”

Eren sighed ran a hand through his hair (which he had indeed washed). Amina was now roosting in her cage with her eyes closed. “I don’t really know how I’m supposed to act around him.” Eren admitted. “I mean, I stopped fighting because Marco told me it was going too far, and also because I wanted an owl.” He glanced down at Amina. His friends listened intently, hoping they’d have a solution to his problem.

“And now that I’ve got an owl, technically we could go right back to the old game but I don’t think either of us really want to.”

Armin suggested, “Maybe you could  _ actually _ try to become friends?”

“That’s what my büyükanne told me last year. It’s just… I don’t think it would really work. And  _ he’s _ probably not for it anyway, so…”

Sasha and Armin adorned thoughtful looks while Mikasa closed her eyes and Connie zoned out, staring at the cloudy landscape zooming by outside. 

“Well, whatever happens, happens, eh?” Sasha finally said with a soft smile. “I think you’re making this whole thing out to be a bigger deal than it needs to be. Just leave it alone, and go naturally.”

Armin nodded with her. “Yeah, that’s seems like a good way to go.”

Eren gave them a half-smile. “Okay… I’ll try.”

_____

_____

 

It was still cloudy and dark when all the students disembarked the train and left Hogsmeade Station, but rain wouldn’t be coming for a while. Only the first years went across the Black Lake on boats, while all the older students went around the giant expanse of water via a well-kept dirt road on horseless-drawn carriages. 

Eren had seen Jean and Marco among the mass of people for a brief second before the two of them started clambering into a carriage with their luggage alongside some Ravenclaw fourth years, Thornbeak now safely confined to a bird cage and chittering loudly. She’d earned an entire crowd of “aww”s before Jean hurriedly escaped into the carriage with blushing red ears. 

Eren and his group eventually found themselves in their own carriage, and Eren and Armin gazed out the little window at the Black Lake appreciatively as their ride bumped along. The dusk sky glinted on the smooth, dark waters beautifully, and the vision of the little rowboats with their lanterns further completed the picture. Trees would obscure their view for a few seconds every couple of moments, but that only added to the comfortable quiet as the procession of horseless carriages strode ever closer to Hogwarts. 

Once each and every student, teacher, and staff member had safely entered the building and everyone was seated at their house’s table, the rain started pouring down outside. The enchanted ceiling even showed falling rain, though the drops never made it through the spell. The glow of the floating candles accompanied by the  _ pitter-patter _ against the large glass windows made for a very cozy atmosphere.

Same as last year, Professor Smith gave an opening speech to the to-be-sorted first years, whom of which formed a nervous line in front of the Sorting Hat as Nanaba started to call names from a new list. Eren and Sasha politely welcomed a new addition to Gryffindor every time one would bumble over to the table, but when they weren’t doing that, they were excitedly whispering to each other about new quidditch tricks they wanted to try out or just generally cracked jokes while the older students around them shot them dirty looks. 

Eventually, the line dissipated and Nanaba picked up the stool and hat while Professor Smith welcomed the new students with open arms and then conjured the annual opening night feast with a flourish. 

“Is that… jajik??” Eren cried, eyes locked on a bowl of white yogurt with little specks of green vegetable mixed in. At this point, everyone and their mothers knew that Eren Jaeger was Turkish, so everyone around him laughed as he eagerly leaned over the table and scooped himself a hearty helping, along with a handful of na’an. 

“That smells good.” Sasha commented.

“If ish!” Eren replied through a mouthful of jajik-covered bread.  

Sasha laughed at him. “Now I know how you feel when I do that!”

Eren convinced her to try some of his favorite home dish, and it didn’t take much because she was far from a picky eater and had high expectations, since she continued to demand Salep from him every winter. They got a few other hesitant students around them to try it, and eventually the dish had spread all the way down the table once the vast majority discovered they liked it. Other Turkish students at the other three tables were doing the same, overjoyed to be sharing a part of their culture with such a wide and accepting audience. Eren caught sight of Jean enjoying his own jajik and na’an at the Hufflepuff table as well, and felt his chest swell with pride even more.

Grinning, Professor Smith rose from the table in his elegant robes to announce that he had conversed with the house-elves over the summer, and they were very much willing to engage in a little idea he’d had. “Every week, a specific food or dish from a different culture will be served alongside the usual meals. For our first week back, our staff have chosen the Turkish jajik and na’an, as you can see.” 

Eren and the other Turkish students around the Great Hall shared overjoyed looks.

Erwin continued. “We figured we could make a little activity out of it as well. Next week, the special dish will change, and whoever guesses which culture it is from first will take ten points to their house. This will repeat each week.”

At that, the Great Hall erupted into chatter. Eren and Sasha punched each other’s shoulders competitively, and Eren overheard some students at the Ravenclaw table saying, “That’s thirty-six opportunities to earn points!”

Everyone was excited for this new idea to start taking flight, and for the possibility of a dish from their own culture appearing at some point. Eren and his friends couldn’t stop talking about it even after the opening night feast had ended and they milled aimlessly around the halls and stairways. Mikasa had also expressed eagerness to see something Japanese be served on the tables, as did Connie for something African (even better if specifically Ethiopian), and Sasha for something Austrian. Armin was English so he didn’t have anything to add since English food was already the default, but was positively eccentric for the chance to learn about other culture’s culinary arts anyway. He was like a sponge for knowledge, really.

Connie suddenly stopped and let out a long groan which echoed off the high, stone corridor walls. “Now Jean’s  _ never _ gonna shut up about his frenchy frenchness!”

Armin, Sasha and Eren gave him questioning looks. 

“You guys haven’t been in the Hufflepuff common room, so you haven’t had to deal with him shouting it from the rooftops every chance he gets, but me and Mikasa have.” He thumbed at himself and Mikasa, then moved his fingers to point at Eren. “He’s like you with your Turkishness, but French.”

Eren whacked Armin and Sasha when they snickered at that. 

“ _ God _ I hope the French dish isn’t escargot.  _ Anything _ but escargot.”

“How about frog legs?” Mikasa asked, slyly grinning when Connie made a wrenching sound. 

“I’ll take excessive cholesterol over slimy animals any day!”

“Excessive cholesterol?” Sasha giggled. Armin answered her through his own laughter. “The French use a lot of butter!”

“And sugar!” Sasha added.

“And wine.” Said Mikasa.

“And eggs!” Eren shouted with a grin. The five of them burst into fits of laughter before parting ways that night, feeling good about the start into their third year at Hogwarts.

_____

_____

 

For the next week, the jajik was the first thing Eren reached for at every meal — even breakfast. It also rained for the entirety of that week as well, which left Eren and Sasha with purple bags under their eyes since the Gryffindor tower had front row seats to the noisy, thundering downpour. Mikasa, Armin, and Connie were quite well rested, as the Hufflepuff and Slytherin common rooms were underground and therefore shielded from the wind and the rain. Connie made it a point to rub that fact in as much as possible. (Eren sent a letter home with Amina to update his parents on his whereabouts as well as one to his  b üyükanne to complain about the weather situation affecting his sleep.)

The second week of school, everyone rushed down to The Great Hall for the first meal of the day, determined to scout out the new dish and earn their own house points. Before Eren had even deciphered which food on the table was the odd one out, a boy at the Ravenclaw table excitedly shouted out, “ Pão de queijo! Brazil!” And he held up a little tan dough ball for everyone to see.

Professor Smith smiled. “Congratulations Joao. You have earned Ravenclaw ten points!” The Ravenclaw table cheered, while the other three tables groaned. Eren guessed that Joao was probably Brazilian, if his tan complexion and sunny smile were anything to go by. He saw Joao share a high five with Mina before taking a bite of the little dough ball.

Eren curiously turned to the basket of Pão de queijo at his own section of the Gryffindor table, took one, and inspected it in his hand.  It was around the size of a golf ball, and looked really good. 

“It’s a baked cheese roll,” A girl sitting on the other side of the table was saying to some other Gryffindors. “They’re a really common breakfast and snack food. I was about to yell them out, but Joao beat me to it.” She laughed, and another student patted her shoulder and told her there were still plenty of other weeks in the year.

After hearing that, Eren took a bite and let out a pleased groan. Not only did the little cheese bread smell  _ perfect _ , but the taste was positively  _ drool-worthy _ . Sasha was  _ actually _ drooling next to him, snatching as many of the little rolls as she could and piling them on her plate while the students around her protested loudly.

Rustling and fluttering noises from above started catching everyone’s attention, as the first owls flew in through the high open window carrying letters and packages, signaling the Morning Mail. Eren easily spotted a gray one that was much larger than the rest (also quieter than most of the other screeching and cawing owls), and beckoned Amina to him with a smile. He could see she had two letters tied to her leg — one from his b üyükanne and one from his parents, no doubt.

Among the flock of brown, gray, and white, however, Eren also spotted a significantly smaller owl carrying its own letter, flapping its little wings rapidly to keep it in the air. 

“Hey, it’s Thornbeak!” Sasha pointed.

A few other students around them curiously turned to look, and instantly started “awww”ing at the sight of the small owl triumphantly landing in front of Jean, obviously proud of herself for persisting the flight, even for her small size. Amina hooted softly next to Eren, clearly impressed, but trying not to show it. 

He sees kids around Jean start petting an ecstatic Thornbeak, some from different tables coming over to give her even more attention. Jean’s face is so red that Eren’s kind of a little concerned for him.

“She really is a cute owl; I don’t blame them.” Sasha says, still looking at the little crowd that’s formed around the Hufflepuff table. Thornbeak isn't even visible anymore from where they sit. She and Eren laugh when Jean starts to shoo everyone away from his owl so that he can read his letter in peace.

Eren turns to his own letters, and rips open his b üyükanne’s first. It’s short, since the two of them had long since stopped talking about Eren’s social problems and more just updates in their everyday life. She wrote about some guests she’d invited over for lunch and complained of how they smelled like feet. Eren laughed when he read that she’d sprayed the entire house down with lemon cologne the very second they left. He knit his brow in concern when she finished by saying that she hadn’t been feeling well lately, and was going to take a few days off from her work. He’d have to send her recovery wishes latter. 

Then, as Sasha started wrestling with some other third year next to her for the last cheese bread roll, he read his parent’s letter. In Turkish, which already hinted at his mother, it read:

 

> Hello Eren,
> 
> It’s just Anne this time — your father’s sleeping right now. That new activity Professor Smith’s started sounds like a wonderful idea! And as much as I tell you not to brag, I must say how proud I am that you were the first one to recognize the jajik. Well done! Remind me to make some when you come home over break!
> 
> Now, I also must confess something that you mentioned in your last letter. You are aware of Jean’s new pet owl, yes? I believe her name was Thornbeak? Well, you know that we got you Amina as a result of you finally starting to get along with Jean. The thing that I must confess is: Jean got his owl through the same deal with his own mother. 
> 
>  

_ ‘... Wait, what!?’ _ Eren thought, eyebrows furrowing as he stared at the letter in his hands. 

 

> You see, Jean’s mother and I have been in contact since the summer before your second year, and at the time, we decided that the best way to get the two of you to stop fighting was to appeal to your better nature. We knew that a great reward of some sort would motivate the two of you — in this case, owls — and it worked, as you can see. Marvelously, as a matter of fact! 
> 
> So, we’ve decided that since our idea worked so well and you’ve stopped fighting, that the Kirschtein’s will be coming over for Christmas!  Until then, start to talk with Jean, you’ll be surprised how much you have in common.
> 
> Love, Anne

 

Eren leaned back and dragged his hands down his face with an incoherent grumble, all but tuning out the curious noises Sasha and Amina made next to him. When he took his hands off his face, he saw that across the room at the Hufflepuff table, Jean was wearing a similar face of shock as he stared at his own letter, mouth slightly open and a hand resting on his forehead. Jean’s eyes flitted up from his letter, and locked with Eren’s. They had the exact same expressions on their faces.

 

_ ‘What the hell did we get ourselves into?’ _

 

_____

_____

 

Things didn’t get better for either of them. Now that their weekly schedule had been turned into a grueling countdown until Christmas break, things were even more awkward than before. And, as the universe’s way of adding insult to injury, the two boys had nearly every class together this year.

_ ‘Maybe I could actually try to become friends with him, like Armin, and mom, and my  _ _ b _ _ üyükanne, and… well, everyone have been telling me to. It can’t be so bad, right?’ _ Eren thought, as he sat on a little red cushion across from Jean in Divination, who was seated on his own deep green cushion with golden tassels (Eren thought the cushion suited Jean, the pretentious French butthole). They were both sitting ramrod straight, facing the front of the classroom where Professor Hange was babbling on about the many different and immersing branches of Divination, as cards, tea cups, and crystal balls floated around above them and all about the wide, circular room. All the students were seated in pairs on pillows with tables in between them, while the Professor spoke inanely. 

Speaking of the Professor, Hange was apparently well-rounded in more than one subject and perfectly capable of teaching several of those subjects during the year, given that Eren took potions with them as well. That, or Hange had figured out some wacky cloning magic to allow them to teach multiple classes at once or even crazier yet, had gotten their twitchy hands on a time turner. 

As Eren and Jean sat in their plush little seats with a low, white-sheeted table in between them, pretending not to be acutely aware of the other’s presence, they occasionally made side-eyes at each other only to quickly avert their gaze back at the front when one of them got caught by the other. 

_ ‘This is going nowhere.’ _ Eren thought incensidly, feigning obliviousness to Jean’s next amber-eyed stare. 

“ ‘Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearances, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future’, as a wise witch like me once said,” Hange’s voice rose and dipped dramatically as they spoke, and they giggled once finished speaking, pacing in front of the pairs of students closest to them, who looked rather tormented. The professor tended to give off an intense aura, and if that wasn't enough to turn people off, then their maniacal mannerisms and unpredictability definitely was. 

The Divination objects — teacups, cards, crystal balls, and such — still swirled slowly overhead. “For our first unit of the year, we will be delving into the branch of Tessomancy. Can anyone tell me what that is?”

To Eren’s surprise, Jean’s hand shot up first, and Hange called on him. “Something having to do with teacups? ‘Tasse’ means ‘teacup’ in French, so…”

The Professor cackled, confirming Jean’s answer as correct. “Reading the tea leaves _ inside  _ the cups, my boy!” 

Eren smiled and snorted quietly.  _ ‘Predictable.’ _ He saw Jean quickly turn to him, having heard his snort and taken it as a challenge, but Eren simply leaned over and whispered, “I’ve done this before.”

Jean’s expression changed to that of skepticism. “...Really?”

“Mhm. It’s a common Turkish thing to tell fortunes from drinks ‘n stuff, though I’ve only done it with coffee grounds, not tea leaves.”

Jean chuckled under his breath as they both returned to their normal seated postures.  _ “Well, that was some progress, at least.”  _ Eren thought. 

“Let’s get started!” Professor Hange yelled, throwing their arm out to send the many ceramic tea cups floating around the room down to the tables in between the pairs of students. A white one with intricately painted blue flowers on the outside landed in front of Eren with a  _ clink _ while one with a little green landscape on it landed in front of Jean. “Now, switch your cups with the person sitting opposite you — yes, yes, very good,”

Eren ignored the little jolt he felt when his and Jean’s fingers brushed while exchanging cups. The boys peered curiously inside at the wet, brown mush sitting at the bottom of their teacups. 

“Everyone, take out your copies of  _ Unfogging the Future _ and turn to page five — no, Adahy, wrong book—”

Eren flipped to page five of his book and found the beginning of a long, long list of all known tea leaf formations and how to decipher them. “Good lord…” A kid muttered behind him, flipping page after page of tea leaf illustrations. 

“You have until the end of the period to form a prediction of your partner’s future based on the pictures you see in their tea leaves. Better hurry, the clock’s ticking!” Professor Hange cackled manically, making a number of students visibly shudder. 

Jean turned to fully face Eren. “Welp, might as well,” He started flipping through his own copy of  _ Unfogging the Future _ , and Eren hurried to do the same, glancing back at their teacups to try and find a picture in the book that matched what they saw.

“I see a crap-ton of triangles—”

“There’s triangles all over—”

They both stopped and looked at each other. Jean asked, “We’ve both got triangles? Lemme see,” He reached over to take his teacup back from Eren, the sleeve of his robe brushing against the table between them. Jean placed the teacups side-by-side in the middle of the table so they could both clearly look inside.

“All of the triangles are… in the same positions.” Eren observed in awe. “Your fortune is the  _ same _ as mine!”

Jean looked at the teacups then back up at Eren, bewildered. “Well, what is it?”

“I don’t know, check the book for triangles!”

Jean began flipping through the pages of the book, amber eyes scanning for triangles. Eventually, he stopped and put the book down on the table with his finger resting on an image.

“ ‘Triangles - unexpected good fortune’...” Eren read aloud, trailing off at the end as he processed what that meant for the two of them.

Both boys had their eyebrows furrowed as they looked up from the book at each other, contemplating what on Earth the triangles were indicating and why their fortunes were identical. Eren wondered if the teacups were referring to the upcoming doom that he envisioned as Christmas break, and if Jean was thinking the same thing.

_____

_____

 

Similar situations like that happened all the way up until Christmas break, but we’ll get to that jolly hell of an adventure in just a second. 

As far as Professor Erwin’s new foreign foods activity went, the next ten dishes that were served in the Great Hall bounced from country to country, with seemingly no clear pattern. There was Haitian Pwason, Australian fairy bread, Italian fettuccine (Marco had earned Ravenclaw ten points, and Eren had learned that the freckled boy could fluently speak Italian and Spanish, given his Italian and Puerto Rican background), Austrian apple strudel (Sasha was overjoyed), Zimbabwean Sadza, Humitas (this food’s Native American origins are quite unclear), German sausages ranging from bratwurst all the way to blood sausages, genuine Japanese sushi of every roll imaginable (Mikasa couldn’t stop smiling), and Ethiopian Wat (Connie ecstatically brought ten points home to Hufflepuff on that day and wouldn’t stop talking about it for a week and a half afterward). 

Finally, the French dish turned out to be a bunch of little, chocolate-hazelnut cup soufflés served at dinner. When Eren looked for Jean across the room at the Hufflepuff table, he saw the boy positively beaming as he blabbed on to Mikasa, Thomas and Connie nearby about how these soufflés were  _ almost _ as good as the ones his mother makes, to which Connie and Thomas rolled his eyes and dug into the eggy dessert, while Mikasa somewhat humoured him by humming every now and then and then complimenting him by saying that his mother must be a very skilled cook. This more or less shut Jean up into a blushing, stammering mess, seeing as he could no longer form coherent sentences and instead chose to remain silent to prevent further embarrassing himself in front of Mikasa. Eren found this whole thing to be oddly, but funnily entertaining to watch as he inhaled his own soufflé. 

With the dishes being as inconsistent as ever, no one could even begin to guess where the next food would be from. Some kids from Ravenclaw (of course) started trying to chart the order of how the dish’s origins hopped around and tried to predict where the next would be from. The Professors only smiled when they were pestered to spill secrets by students who desperately wanted to be the first, while other kids (Armin) who took less interest in the whole competitive event simply enjoyed the foreign foods as they came. 

As far as Eren and Jean went, Eren was somewhat happy to admit that through their many cases of being pushed to work together, the two have established a somewhat-less-awkward-than-before friendship(?) and therefore Christmas break was starting to look less like doomsday. And through their continuous cases of being shoved together in classes, Eren had discovered quite a bit about Jean. 

He already knew that Jean was a pureblood (such a thing was becoming increasingly rare these days), French as hell and proud of it (and spoke French with his mother at home), was an only child, and lived with only one parent — his mother — but there was a whole lot more that Eren had uncovered. For one thing, he and Jean were on opposite sides of the time-old dog v.s. cat rivalry, Eren being on team dog while Jean valiantly sided with team cat. Jean’s favorite food was also apparently omelettes, he liked to draw a lot (well, Eren had already guessed that), he could play piano, he loved quidditch, his favorite color was green (Eren’s was red — though he swore it wasn’t because he was a Gryffindor), and Jean really did not know  _ anything _ about the muggle world. 

Eren found it strange that Jean knew, well,  _ nothing _ on the matter, considering Jean lived smack in the middle of Trost — a huge city with muggles and wizardkind alike — and therefore  _ had _ to have encountered the muggle world in some way or another. To that, Jean simply shrugged, saying that he only hung out with the other wizard kids in the area and never cared much for anything the muggle world had to offer. To that, Eren huffed and vowed that over Christmas break, he'd introduce Jean to the magic of the muggle world once and for all.

_____

_____

 

When Christmas break finally does come around, Eren finds himself back in his home neighborhood again. His parents picked him up from the station same as last year, and for the third time in a row, he prolonged the short walk from their parked car to the front door by pelting both his parents with snowballs over and over (his parents ganged up on him as revenge and hurtled him with double the ammunition, and they all ended up falling over as a laughing pile of limbs on their snowy front lawn. This, too, was usual, only this time they had Amina screeching in protest any time her feathers came anywhere close to the cold, white snow).

There were still a few days left until Christmas Eve, so Eren knew not to expect Jean for a while. In the meantime, he’d get reacquainted with his room and wearing normal clothes again (or at least normal muggle clothes) and try to convince Amina that the snow wasn’t an evil satan spawn out to ruin her wings. 

They still had things to do in preparation anyway; they needed to go out on their annual Christmas tree hunt, decorate said Christmas tree (and  _ not _ start crying over that one ornament that showcases a picture of the entire family,  _ Grisha _ ), Eren had to contemplate whether or not he and Jean were at  _ that level _ to give each other presents yet (Carla had rolled her eyes at her son’s overcompensating), and above all, Eren needed to help his parents cook. Or, at least try, given his cooking abilities were a bit lacking. 

Finally, on the day the Kirschteins were set to come over for dinner, Eren and his mother found themselves in their maroon painted kitchen, ready to cook up a storm for later that day. Grisha was busying himself by cleaning up the living room, the whirr of the vacuum vibrating noisily through the house.

“He likes omelettes,” Eren shouted over the noise of the vacuum while seated at the kitchen table on his phone. “We should make something French and eggy for him— them, I mean.” 

His mother gave him an amused smile from where she stood behind him, pulling her long, dark hair into a loose ponytail. She then took out the white apron hanging on a hook and tied it around her waist, partially covering over her mom jeans. Just at that moment, the vacuum cut off, meaning Grisha was probably onto something else.

“How about you find a recipe based on the ingredients I just bought,” She started, pointing at the grocery bags sitting on the floor by the magnet-covered fridge, “And  _ then _ we’ll get to cooking it, okay?”

Eren nodded, then quickly tapped “french christmas recipes” into his phone. He paused and put the device down on the table in order to shove the sleeves of his black long-sleeved shirt up to his elbows. While Eren scrolled through the results Google brought him with his thumb, his mother got out some ingredients from the bags and began to make her infamous Salep (which Eren’s friends had been drinking ever since he introduced it to them. His mother had started letting them put their own toppings on — Armin liked walnuts, Sasha liked cinnamon, Mikasa liked pistachios, and Connie liked coconut flakes).

“Ms. Kirschtein is bringing a pie of her own, so let’s stay away from desserts, hm?” She called over her shoulder as she began to pour milk into a pot.

Eren nodded, and kept scrolling, then groaned when Google brought him French dessert recipe after French dessert recipe. “Aw, but these look so  _ goooooood _ ,” 

His mother chuckled. “I know. They do.” 

Eventually, after changing the search multiple times, Eren decided on a simple cheese quiche, since bacon or spinach sounded a bit risky for his cuisine skill level (and also he didn't know what Jean would like). He began digging through the grocery bags in search of eggs, cheese, and a pie crust, then Eren and his mother got to cooking their cheese quiche.

Nearly forty five minutes later, Eren’s black long-sleeved shirt is covered in milk splatters and egg whites, his hands slimy from the ingredient gunk. He grins and playfully holds out his grimy hand for his mom to shake, and greets her in an overly posh stereotypical English accent. “Pleasure to meet you, governor!”

She snorts at him at sets the tray holding the hot quiche down on the countertop next to the platter of dolma and the pot of soup (which they’d made at the same time as the quiche), then leans away from her son’s slimy outstretched hand. “Not a chance, Eren.” She then playfully shoves him towards the kitchen door. “Go take a shower and get dressed, you nuisance, I still need to toss the salad!”

Snickering as he ascends the stairs, Eren makes it to their little second floor bathroom across the hall from his room, and closes the white bathroom door behind him. He dumps all his dirty, egg and milk covered clothes in a pile and then turns the water on.

Eren exits the shower roughly twenty minutes later, the bathroom mirror all foggy (he quickly draws a dick), and then runs across the hall and into his room to get dressed. Briefly, Eren wonders how fancy or casual he should dress. It wasn’t like they were having a huge party, but it was also  _ Christmas dinner _ so maybe some vague combination of fancy and casual would pass. He finds a white dress shirt and some regular black jeans. That works, right? He slips on his house slippers as well.

When he comes back down the stairs and crosses into their dining room (which was small and neighbored the kitchen), he sees his parents have gotten dressed as well. His father has his hair tied into a modest low ponytail and is wearing something similar to Eren, though his dress shirt is baby pink and his pants are khakis. His mother is wearing a comfortable, loose yellow dress with a brown belt around her waist and some simple pearl earrings. She hated heels with a fiery passion and was therefore wearing a pair of agreeable yellow slippers (Eren thought they looked better than heels, anyway. He’d read somewhere that heals could cause permanent skeletal damage — not that a little magic couldn’t fix it, but still…).

His parents let out little gasps when he nervously entered the dining room with one hand in his pants pocket and the other combing through his (finally) clean and brushed hair. 

“Why, aren’t you the little man!” Carla gushed, walking over to pat his shoulders and bat his hand out of his hair. “It looks nice, don’t mess it up!”

Grisha strolled over beside them, grinning proudly down at Eren as he adjusted his round glasses. He silently, broodingly gave Eren the nod of approval, then his playful composure broke and he brought Eren into a rough hug, laughing as he patted his son’s back. Eren wriggled in his father’s hold, laughing even as he broke away and his mother swooped back in to smooth down his hair. 

“They should be arriving soon, so how about you set the table, hm?” She suggested.

“Okay.” As Eren put plates, napkins, and silverware down for five people, his parents carried in the salad, dolma, soup, and Eren’s quiche. He was quite proud of that, and planned on making it a point to Jean that he had made it. 

Soon after, just as his mother had said, Eren heard the telltale rumble of some sort of vehicle coming from far away outside. Although something felt a little off about the rumbling. For one thing, most modern cars were much quieter that that, and the rumbling wasn’t coming from ground level. No, it was coming from the  _ sky _ .

As Eren’s parents cast each other questioning looks, Eren dashed to the window by the front door and looked out and up in awe. There in the sky, headlights being the only way to identify it against the winter night sky, was a flying car, smoothly and steadily descending down in the direction of their driveway. His parents came to peer out the window with him, and both let out cries of fascination. “Wh— I— I can’t believe—” His father stuttered. His mother turn to him, “This sort of thing is common…?”

Eren tried to find his voice again then nodded. “Uh… yeah, but I’ve only seen flying cars in wizarding newspapers… at school…”

The three watch as the flying car comes closer into view, showing that it is of a sleek, dark green color, and a rather old-fashioned design. It lands on their wide driveway next their own black Honda. The engine cuts, and the lights turn off, then the driver’s door opens and a woman Eren had never seen before but must obviously be none other than Ms. Kirschtein steps out. The woman appears to be around Eren’s parent’s age, of average height and a stalkier build with shoulder-length brown hair pulled up into a tight, sophisticated ponytail. She’s wearing a sleek outfit consisting of black dress pants, a white dress shirt, and a long, sweeping black overcoat that heavily implies that she is someone of great magical importance. 

Next, Jean steps out of the dark green vehicle with what Eren assumes is their pie, and stands on the snowy driveway next to his mother. She takes a moment to straighten the collar of his suit jacket while he squirms in protest, shivering at the cold, and glaring in disdain at the falling snow around them. Eren can see that he’s dressed in a gray suit and has a red dress shirt on underneath, but no tie. Eren suspects that Jean’s mother is the culprit behind his fancy attire — even his usually spiky ashen hair is slicked back, showing off his acne-covered forehead, something Jean didn’t seem too pleased about. 

“Eren, get away from the door, they’re coming in. Your face smushed up against the window is  _ not _ the first thing they want to see!” His father scolds, pulling his son away from the window. A hard, loud rapping noise comes from the door just as Eren is stumbling away from it, and his mother rushes forward to open the door and let their guests in. 

“Carla!” Ms. Kirschtein beams, Eren’s initial icy and professional impression of her melting in an instant. “It’s so nice to finally meet you in person!” 

“You too, Ann!”

The two women hug warmly while Grisha stands behind them smiling. Eren can hear the faintest of French accents in her speech, but it's just enough to hint that it's her mother tongue. Eren peeks around Ms. Kirschtein to see Jean shyly hiding himself behind his mother, fiddling with the saran wrap over the pie. Eren awkwardly waves at him, and Jean stiffly nods back, then looks down. 

_ ‘His face is bright red again.’ _ Eren observes.

“Oh, come on in already, it’s freezing out there!” Grisha cries, ushering them further into their home. “And I don’t mean to be an impolite guest, but there’s hot food waiting for us.”

Ms. Kirschtein laughs at him as the three adults moved into the dining room, Ms. Kirschtein reveling in how she’d never been invited into a muggle home before, or at least with the muggles knowing she was there. Jean quickly crosses the threshold of their front door to escape the cold and Eren closes the door behind him to seal off the icy air for good. They stand quietly in the hall for a few seconds, not entirely sure how to greet each other.

“Boys! Food!” Grisha calls again, his wife and Ms. Kirschtein still laughing at him as they sit down in their seats. Ms. Kirschtein takes off her long overcoat and drapes it over the chair at the head of the table, while Eren’s parents sit on either side of her. Eren sits next to his mom while Jean hesitantly takes the seat next to Eren’s dad.

Carla immediately begins bragging to Ms. Kirschtein that it was Eren’s idea to make a quiche, and Ms. Kirschtein then fixes Eren with an impressed glance, which feels great coming from someone as seemingly important as her. “Well then, let’s see how you did.”

Carla cuts into the quiche and serves everyone a slice, steam leaving the dish with every cut. Eren feels proud when Jean’s mom gives his quiche a nod, and complements how nice and appetizing it looks. He then holds his breath in anticipation when she stabs her fork into her slice and takes a bite.

When she begins to frown, Eren’s face falls, and he opens his mouth to start sputtering apologies when she starts laughing, the wrinkles in the creases of her eyes showing. “Oh, I’m only joking, son, it tastes wonderful!”

Eren’s jaw drops open in shock, Jean bursting out into sputtering giggles, one hand hiding his red face, and Eren’s dad starts cackling while Carla gasps in disbelief at Ms. Kirschtien’s mischief. Grisha cries, “Oh my god, you should’ve seen your face! You even had  _ me _ scared!”

Eren crosses his arms and shakes his head at everyone. “And here I thought I was gonna have a nice evening.”

“Sh-shut up,” Jean giggles, then digs his fork into his own slice of quiche. Eren smiles, happy that Jean is finally warming up.

As the five eat their dinner, the soup, dolma, quiche and salad begin to disappear. The adults chatter noisily while the boys keep their focus primarily on their food (Eren had to convince Jean to try the dolma, and caught him trying to subtly take another one a few moments later. He also had to bug him to taste the Salep, and as Eren boastfully expected, Jean’s French taste buds quite liked the sweet, milky drink). Eren overhears his parents start talking about their jobs, Grisha about his work as a doctor and Carla about her job as an editor both for books and the local newspaper, then they inquire to Ms. Kirschtein as to what life was like as a witch and about her car, and Ms. Kirschtein quickly spirals off into a passionate talk about her job at the Ministry of Magic, and how her car is one of many that are given to Ministry workers. Eren nearly spits out his Salep when he hears that.

“The Ministry of Magic!?”

“I’ve worked in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes for twenty-five years,” She informs them pridefully while her son slumps over dramatically in his chair and groans, indicating he’d heard this spiel more often than he liked to. Ms. Kirschtein ignores Jean. “We cover accidents that occur in the wizarding world as well as the muggle world to ensure the safety of all. This is why I’ve been in muggle houses before, you see, though invisible as to not cause stress for the muggles present at the time.”

Eren’s parents share looks of pure astonishment at this, eagerly asking more and more questions about the wizarding world and her job at the Ministry, which Ms. Kirschtein is more than happy to answer as more and more food gets eaten off their plates. Eren asks her through a mouthful of quiche (which his parents send him death-glares for) if they had any video games. 

Eren and his parents gawk when she shakes her head. “I’m very serious about my job, you see. So I’ve never had time to indulge in muggle trends such as ‘video games’,” She made finger quotes. “Why, are they important?”

“Yeah!” Eren cries indignantly, having swallowed his quiche. “All kids play them. They’re fun!” He explains, becoming mildly discouraged by Jean’s look of confusion across the table. He turns to face the boy. “I have some, we can play them after dinner!”

Carla interrupts them. “Well, I think the two of you already finished,” She indicates Eren and Jean’s empty plates, “So you could go up and show Jean your room now while the adults talk, okay?”

“Alright, c’mon Jean!” Eren shouts, leaping out of his chair and yanking Jean out of his seat with a cry before dragging the ashen-haired boy up the stairs and into his room. 

As Eren runs over to turn his little television on and make sure the Super Smash Bros. disc is in the Wii, Jean looks around Eren’s bedroom curiously. Eren’s bedroom was a pigsty, as his parents called it. There were clothes and half-empty water bottles strewn about, books, toys, and a moldy piece of bread under the dresser. Aside from the general mess, Eren’s room had wooden walls and flooring, and his black-and-red quilted bed was right next to the window, which he let Amina in and out of. Amina herself was quietly watching Jean from her cage on the desk as he sat down on Eren’s bed and began to take off his suit jacket, eyeing her warily. Eren’s dresser was on the other side of the room by the door, the desk was across from the bed, and on the desk was Amina, and a little television and Wii which Eren was fiddling with.

“So you’ve  _ never _ played video games?” Eren asked over his shoulder. He got his answer when the television turned on and Jean jumped away with a yelp in surprise, the bed springs creaking lightly. Eren couldn’t believe this.

“But you  _ have _ to have seen movies at least, right?” He pressed, turning to face Jean. Jean only looked even more lost, his eyes flickering between Eren and the glowing selection screen for the Wii, which Eren now realized must be positively alien to the pureblood.

“What do you  _ do _ for fun?” Eren asked incredulously.

Jean fumbled for an answer. “I— I don't  know… read, draw, cook, play piano I guess, but I don’t do whatever  _ that _ is!” He cried, pointing at the Wii. “What the hell  _ is _ that thing?”

_ ‘Alright Eren. It’s your duty as a teenager to educate him about the ways of the teenage world. He’ll love video games by the end of the night!’ _ Eren thought to himself, as he climbed onto his bed next to Jean and shoved a controller into the boy’s hand. Jean stared down at it as if it would bite him.

“That’s a television, Jean.” Eren started. “It’s the muggle moving pictures. You watch movies and shows and play video games on it.”

Jean blinked at the glowing screen. “Okay… and it’s…  _ not _ magic?”

Eren nodded.

“Huh… then why does it glow?” Jean asked.

“Uuuhhhh…” Eren murmured, fumbling for an answer. Good question, Jean. “Artificial light? It’s a machine.” 

Jean went closer to the television curiously, probably wondering how on Earth it worked. Eren continued with his teaching. “The thing over there that’s plugged into it— that— yeah, that’s the Wii. It’s got the game disc in there, and that’s how you play different games. You have to put the disc in the Wii, only if they’re meant to be played on the Wii, though. Some games are meant to be played on different consoles.” Eren explained as Jean picked the Wii up and turned it around, poking at the slot where the disc was. “And this… machine reads the… the disc to know which video game you want?”

Eren smiled. “Yeah! You’re getting it! Now let’s play Super Smash Bros.!” Jean grinned as well, proud of himself. He returned to sit by Eren on the bed, shoving his suit jacket out of the way and picking up the controller. “Okay so… how do you play… what was it?”

Eren bit his lip to subdue a chuckle, “Super Smash Bros. It's a simple platform fighting game, but we have to select it first.” He then held up his controller, and Jean gasped when a little blue hand showed up on the screen, following where Eren was pointing. Eren made a show of moving the controller, and therefore hand on the screen, around. 

“Wh— how— can— can I do that?” Jean asked and held up his own controller. To his delight, another red hand appeared where he was pointing, and he waved it around. “That’s so cool!”

Eren smiled at Jean’s excitement, then selected the Super Smash Bros. rectangle and laughed when Jean jumped again, as the opening theme began playing. Eren watched Jean watch in amazement as the colors, music, and characters flashed around on the television screen. Jean stuttered, “And a-all of this… is anim-animated?” He glanced to his side at Eren as he nodded. 

“But you can control your character once we start playing.”

“Woah…” Jean breathed.

Eren took the next ten minutes to explain every single character to Jean, answering as many questions as he could before the two boys actually selected characters and began playing. Eren had picked Charizard and Jean had eventually settled on Meta Knight. Eren promised to go easy on Jean for the first ten or so rounds to allow Jean to learn the mechanics of the game, the buttons, the attacks, not falling off the stages, and, well, literally everything. But the second Jean started  _ actually _ trying to kick Eren’s ass, it was game on. 

The two boys button-mashed and nearly peed themselves laughing by pushing each other off the platforms for the next twenty or so minutes as the Christmas night sky continued to snow down outside. Amina closed her eyes and tuned out the noises of the fighting video game and the squealing and giggling boys, feeling she no longer needed to keep her watchful eye on Jean. 

Soon, there was a knock on the door, and Ms. Kirschtein came in as Eren paused the game. “Hello boys,” She greeted, leaning over to give her son a kiss on the head. 

“Maman!” Jean shouted, red-faced as he pushed her away. She only laughed at him, then focused her attention on the paused video game, propping a hand on her hip. “So this is the ‘video game’ you were so passionately telling me about, Eren?” She asked.

Eren nodded, then quickly gave her a summarized explanation of what he’d told Jean. She motioned for Jean to scoot over on the bed so that she could sit down and observe their playing. 

“For research purposes.” She reasoned as Jean and Eren gave her raised eyebrows. “Maybe if I like it enough, I’ll consider getting you one for your birthday.” Ms. Kirschtein said offhandedly as Jean’s jaw dropped open. “Really!?” 

“ _ Maybe _ . I’d like to see what it’s about first.”

Jean immediately prodded at Eren to unpause the game so that they could continue playing. Jean’s character — Meta Knight — fell off the platform as soon as the game resumed, which Eren cracked up about and made Jean pout, but they played a few rounds of the game for a somewhat awed Ms. Kirschtein before she eventually retreated the room, complaining that it was too much visual clutter, but yes, she would get Jean one for his birthday (Eren hoped his parents would mention to her that she’d need to buy more than just the game alone). 

Before she left the room, Ms. Kirschtein informed the two that she and Jean would be leaving in a few minutes, so it would be best if they came back down into the dinning room and have dessert. She left, satisfied with a “once we finish this round”, and closed Eren’s bedroom door behind her. Eren narrowly escaped falling down as Jean’s attack caused his character to go sailing off into the abyss, and they cackled about it, too busy laughing to be frustrated, then turned off the game and exited Eren’s room to descend down the stairs. 

When they enter the dining room, all three adults are already in the spots they sat in for dinner, and the pie, a stack of plates, a knife, and some forks are set on the table. Jean takes off the saran wrap for their pie, and Eren and his parents gasp when they see it. It’s a simple, delicious smelling apple pie, but the crust over the top is an  _ amazingly _ intricate floral design with leaves and petals. As Eren and his parents gawk at the pie, Jean and his mother laugh, before she playfully quips that a little bit of magic goes a long way in the kitchen. 

The apple pie is as mouth-wateringly tasty as it looks, and only two slices worth of it remains when the five of them are stuffed full and satisfied. When Ms. Kirschtein adorns her long overcoat and Jean dashes back upstairs into Eren’s room to retrieve his suit jacket, Eren cleans up the table as his parents wrap what little leftovers they have remaining and put them in the fridge. Finally, after a long and fun Christmas night, their parents hug and shake hands goodbye, while Eren and Jean hesitate for a few moments before settling on a bit of an awkward bro fist. Soon, the Kirschtein’s are in their green car and are flying out of sight, as Eren trudges back up the stairs and flops down on his bed, exhausted. 

The triangles were right; this entire evening turned out way better than Eren had ever expected.

_____

_____

 

While Christmas break marked a positive highlight for Eren and Jean’s brand new friendship, the rest of the year ended rather messily. 

Eren’s  büyükanne had been getting more and more sick as the weeks went on, which worried Eren to no end. His friends tried to comfort him about it, which felt nice, but it only temporarily soothed his stress. 

Along with puberty’s tirade of new body hair and acne and humiliatingly inconvenient voice cracks, Eren, much to his unfortunate embarrassment, had had his first ever wet dream and woke up from it in the middle of the night,  _ on his fourteenth birthday, _ might I add, absolutely mortified at the mess of spunk in his underwear, and rushed to clean it up and change into a fresh pair of boxer briefs, desperately staying as quiet as he could so as to not wake the other sleeping Gryffindor boys around him. 

When he eventually lay back down in his bed, his thoughts were raging up a storm too loud to allow him to get back to sleep, due to the fact that he knew for certain that his wet dream had been about a male. This didn't bother him the way you might think, for he lived in an incredibly accepting school and family (Grisha’s two dads were his two, annoyingly lovable pun-enthusiast grandfathers and his  büyükanne and her, now deceased, husband adopted Carla and her four siblings due to their asexuality) , though it did leave his thoughts racing since he had never before explored his own sexuality, since it was never something he particularly cared about. Now, considering the fact that his first ever wet dream was about some unidentified guy and that was the only thing his mind felt like remembering from the dream, he felt he  probably  _ should _ do a little sexuality exploration.

Eren lay in his red and gold Gryffindor bed, staring up at the dark, moonlight washed ceiling, and tried to test himself by imagining himself in a married relationship with a woman, and then with a man, and found that he felt absolutely fine with both. He wasn’t really ready to imagine something sexual again for the sake of a self-exploration test, since he’d already been given quite a spook that night, but from the scenarios he  _ did _ imagine, they all felt positively  _ identical _ to him. He sat up, the bed creaking lightly under his movement, and decided to write a letter to his  büyükanne , knowing she had more knowledge on this than he currently did. In the morning, before breakfast, he watched as Amina flew off with his letter.

As Amina was flying off, amusingly, another small band of owls dropped off a very presumptuous, long package from his parents for his birthday. Mikasa, Armin, Connie, and Sasha watched eagerly as he tore open the brown wrapping excitedly and revealed a brand spankin’ new quidditch broom. Sasha was at a jealous loss for words while the other three wished him happy birthday. Eren promised to let Sasha borrow it (maybe. Sometimes.) during practice. They’d become quite the assets to the Gryffindor team, and both had grown rather fond of the upperclassman from last year’s tryouts named Reiner, who was a Beater, treating him as though he were their big brother (who everyone suspected had a wee bit of a crush on the other upperclassmen from tryouts who was one of Ravenclaw’s Keepers, Bertolt).

When Jean’s birthday came around a week later, it occurred on a weekend, so upon watching Jean receive a very interesting package of his own, delivered once again by a prideful Thornbeak, much to Amina’s silent amusement, Eren saw that Ms. Kirschtein had indeed kept her promise by getting Jean a Nintendo DS and the game Pokémon Diamond and Pearl. Eren would’ve been a bit jealous had it not been for his new broom, so he followed up on Jean’s embarrassed request for Eren to show him how to set the game up and start playing it. 

Eren and his friends went into Hogsmeade again on that weekend, having already gone a number of times during the year (and yes, they did check out The Shrieking Shack), and hung around for a while. Eren had seen Jean and Marco walk into the barbershop, which piqued his curiosity a little, but he ultimately assumed one of them was getting a trim or something and went about his business of going to the library with Armin to check out some Herbology books. 

However, when all the Hogwarts students had been rounded up back at the train station, Eren and the rest of his friends could not believe what they saw when Jean and Marco showed up. Marco still looked like his tall, freckled, brace-face self, but as it turns out, Jean hadn’t been getting a trim after all. Jean now sported an undercut, which looked weird enough since Eren had never seen Jean with a different hair style before, but what made it look even weirder was the fact that the shaved bits were a completely different color than the tawny spikes on top — they were  _ dark brown _ !

Eren, being the only one out of his little group who could actually call Jean a friend, let Jean know  _ exactly _ what he thought of this new change. Surprisingly, Jean didn’t rise to the bait, and explained to Eren (and therefore Mikasa, Armin, Connie, and Sasha) that he’d noticed it was a rather popular haircut among muggles, and rather liked it, and since his mother was fine with it, he got it. He also revealed to Eren that the reason his hair was dark brown on the shaved part was because his hair was naturally darker at the roots. To prove this, Jean had bowed his head and parted some hair on the top, letting Eren see that they were indeed darker near his scalp. 

That… was actually kind of cool, but Eren instead just told Jean that the undercut sort of suited him. Kinda. He’d have to get used to it.

So, Jean got a new haircut, a Nintendo DS and Pokémon game for his birthday, while Eren got a sweet new quidditch broom, a wet dream, and the strong possibility of being pansexual. Yeaaahhh. 

The final icing on the cake was right around the end of the year, when Eren got two letters — one from his  büyükanne and one from his parents. He read the one from his büyükanne first, and in it, she told him that from what he had described to her, it sounded like pansexual was the best description for how he felt, granted, if he even wanted to put a label on it at all (which he really didn’t give a shit about, to put it bluntly). Still, having closure was a nice feeling, and he’d have to talk to his parents when he got home, although he already knew they’d be perfectly accepting of him.

The second letter, the one from his parents, wasn’t quite so cheery. Not cheery at all, actually. In the letter, Eren’s parents informed him that his  büyükanne had passed away from her recent sickness only a few days prior. The letter alone had left him sitting there stunned to silence at the long breakfast table as all the chatter around him got tunned out to a dull hum. Armin and Mikasa were the first to notice that something was wrong, and asked, to which Eren’s only response was to hand them the letter and mutter that he wasn’t hungry anymore. It was written in English, so Mikasa and Armin’s eyes widened in shock when they got to the meat of the letter, immediately empathizing by telling Eren how sorry they were for him and giving him hugs, Connie and Sasha quickly catching on and doing the same. They all knew just how important she was to him.

Eren had always been someone who felt emotions strongly, and always expressed them as though he were a hurricane, with no reason to hide or pretend he felt nothing. At the funeral, which took place outside on a windy, summer day, it showed, as Eren hadn't cried that hard since he was a toddler. With his fists clenched at his sides, hot, furious, tears made tracks down his brown cheeks as he and his entire family watched his büyükanne’s lovely, carved wooden casket get lowered into her grave next to her husband. As his parents hugged him tight, he resented the world and it's existence of sickness. Relatives rubbed his back, and cousins said nice words. Everyone knew just how important his büyükanne was to Eren, and told him that she must be watching over him now. Slowly, they all began to leave, and eventually so did Eren and his parents, somberly wiping at his drying tears and telling him it would be okay, that he was strong, and they’d all make it through this loss.

Before he returned to Hogwarts to finish up the last few days of his third year, Eren took something from his room: the blue evil eye necklace that his büyükanne had gifted him upon his birth. It had a new importance to him now, and as he slipped the thin, golden chain over his head before picking up his things and walking towards the car, he silently vowed to wear it always from now on to remember her. Amina could sense his sorrowful demeanor during the drive to the train station and tried to remedy it by rubbing her beak and head into his hand. It worked, a little.

When he got back to Hogwarts, his friends already knew what had happened, and gave him their grievances. They all, including Jean and Marco, noticed the new accessory around his neck, but were able to put two and two together and didn't comment on it. Gryffindor won the House Cup that year, and Erwin found that his cultural food activity had been a great success, worth trying out again in years to come. Eren still had so much on his mind, so he looked forward to an entire summer to think about it.


	4. Fourth Year

Eren eventually learned to move on from his büyükanne’s death, but the healing process happened gradually and naturally, spilling over into the summer. During the tail end of his moping around in mid-June, he decided that one thing he could at least get out of the way was telling his parents about the topic he’d last spoken to her about: his sexuality. It wasn’t even a big let’s-sit-down-in-the-living room ordeal, he just shuffled into the kitchen in his pajamas (an old t-shirt and boxers) where his father was making a pot of coffee and his mother was reading over her own article in the newspaper, and spat it out. 

Eren’s mother’s simplistic reaction was to put down the newspaper, smile and motion for him to sit down at the little, sun splashed table with her, then thank him for telling them and to remind him that they loved him, and they’ll love anyone he happened to love. Eren’s father’s reaction was to hum sleepily, mutter, “What she said”, and then offer Eren some coffee. This got Eren and his mother to start laughing non-stop at Grisha’s scruffiness for a good long couple of minutes, while he sat down next to them in his bedroom slippers and bathrobe, grumbling into his coffee mug with a light pink dusting across the bridge of his nose. 

Sometime in July, Eren found himself at the beach again with his friends, his parents and all of their families. It was late afternoon, and they’d already chased each other energetically through the waves and rolled around in the sand, and now the five of them (actually nine, because Connie’s siblings had hung out and played with them too since Connie was the only one in the group who wasn’t a single child) were peacefully all lying down on towels under one of their umbrellas while all their parents talked about boring adult things. 

To roll call, simply for roll calling’s sake, there was Armin’s cheery old grandpa lounging in a beach chair in a loudly-colored hawaiian shirt, sun hat, and star-shaped sunglasses, Connie’s mom and dad chatting with Mikasa and Eren’s parents in a circle of chairs, and Sasha’s father, who was a tall man with a thin, brown goatee, who kept wrangling her to apply sunscreen every few minutes.

Connie’s siblings, whom Eren had met before, were much like their brother, and added so much mirth to their activities. Connie was the middle child of the five, with the younger two being a pair of eleven-year-old twins — a boy and a girl — who batted and swat at each other as much as they cooperated in mischievous schemes. Connie’s sister, the oldest of the bunch at eighteen, had that telltale bossy older sister personality on the outside, but was really rather sweet and caring when you got down to it. And the last sibling, the one between the eldest sister and Connie at sixteen, was almost a perfect mix of their younger brothers’ goofiness and their older sister’s responsibility. 

All nine of them were resting on the tirade of towels (Eren miraculously managing to not lose his necklace in the waves), basking in the shade the big umbrella cast down on them, panting a little from their hours of play as a nice breeze whipped by over the sand. Children screamed and squealed down by the waves while their families lounged under the multitude of colored umbrellas that were scattered down the coast, but all the noise was somewhat muted from where they all lay father up the beach, save for the occasional lifeguard whistle. 

“You know what  _ I’m _ excited for?” One of the Springer twins posed. Everyone hummed in question. “This year’s Quidditch World Cup!”

“Oh yeah!” Sasha whooped, rolling back onto her stomach (there were white splotches of unrubbed sunscreen all over her arms and face). “I’m actually going this year for the first time  _ ever _ !”

“ _ No way _ !” The other twin, Connie and Eren cried together.

“ _ Yes _ way! My dad got tickets!”

Mr. Braus perked up at Sasha’s mention of “dad” and shot their group a curious, parental glance.

“Ey, dad!” Sasha hollered and waved, to which the man only smiled goofily, shook his head, and relaxed back into the chair. Everyone laughed (Connie’s older sister sighed from under the hat she had resting over her face, trying to nap), before getting back onto the topic at hand.

“That’s so cool, Sash!” Armin complimented, ever the polite one despite his distaste for the wizard sport.

“Lucky!” The Springer twins cried.

“My parents got tickets too.” Mikasa mentioned, as Eren’s jaw dropped and he stared at her in disbelief. “Really? Wow, Kasa!”

“Man,” Connie mumbled. “I wish we could go…”

“We’re a family of  _ seven _ , Con, and those tickets’re expensive!” The second eldest Springer sibling pointed out, crossing their ankles in the air. “Nobody has that kinda money just layin’ around.”

“Yeah, I know.” Connie said sadly, then his face suddenly brightened as he had an idea. “Hey!” His voice cracked, and he quickly cleared his throat with a blush (he was light enough for his rosy cheeks to actually be seen, unlike Eren) while everyone chuckled. Connie continued. “Maybe someone in the neighborhood has an extra!”

“Sure, Con-Man.”

Eren was biting down his jealousy well, or at least he hoped he was. He and Sasha had gotten pretty good at quidditch, and it was paying off both for the Gryffindor team, and for their bodies, as Eren had gone from a scrawny twig to a toned… not-twig, and the same went for Sasha (who was still growing  _ up _ like a tree while Eren had only gained, what,  _ five _ centimeters since first year). They sometimes had goofy, flexing matches just to show off their new biceps to their friends, amping up the “douchey-jock” persona only to make them all laugh even more. Eren thought his acne, greasy hair, and voice cracks threw off the joke somewhat, but everyone assured him it only made it all the more funny.

Because of his love for quidditch, Eren couldn’t help but  feel a little jealous towards Sasha and Mikasa, since they would now apparently be going to the biggest quidditch event in the  _ world _ this coming August, and it only took place every four years! Having muggle parents who couldn’t buy tickets without wizard currency meant Eren probably stood no chance of going, unless someone had an extra ticket just lying around and Connie didn’t get to them first (no offense to Connie, but in the name of sports, things happen). Eren loved his parents, dearly, but  _ man _ did he also love quidditch.

The stars apparently aligned or something that night, for as Eren finished showering off all the sand and grumbling at his reflection in the mirror (being more toned was great and all, but he still had acne. Also he was pretty sure this was a Turkish thing, but at this rate he might  _ actually _ have to start shaving and possibly even manscaping by sixth year), he wrapped a white towel around his waist and walked across the hall into his room just in time to see Thornbeak, of all creatures, come flying in through his window and land on his desk next to a startled and squawking Amina, sending papers sailing off the desk from her large, flapping wings.

To Eren’s astonishment, the cheery little owl had a letter tied to her leg, and allowed Eren to untie it and see that it was addressed to him from… from  _ Jean _ ? I mean sure, she  _ was _ Jean’s owl, but still…

Eren put the letter down on his desk and quickly got changed into a ratty old black t-shirt with holes and some neon green boxer briefs for bed (When Eren wasn’t sleeping naked or in his underwear, he was sleeping in worn shirts because he claimed they were softer) while Thornbeak once again attempted to befriend a baffled Amina. As Eren took the letter in his hands again and sat down on his bed, he shot Amina a teasing smile when she looked to him for help. She no longer viewed Thornbeak as a threat, but still was clearly very unsure of how to treat the excitable little chirping owl. Eren suspected Amina was even a bit, dare he say,  _ flustered _ in Thornbeak’s presence. 

Amina squawked at him, but he only flopped down onto his pillow with a grin, ignoring the two owls on his desk in favor of opening his letter (which contained surprisingly more legible handwriting).

 

> Hey Eren,
> 
> I’m just gonna be blunt here. My maman got us tickets for the Quidditch World Cup with the intention of inviting Marco along but Marco and his family already have tickets so my maman suggested I offer the extra to another friend to come with us but the only other person who I’m kinda close with is you so do you want to come with us? 
> 
> If you want to go, my maman wants  me to add in some general information for your parents. It’s happening in India this time, India v.s. Australia, and if you say yes, we’ll pick you up on August 19th, but the actual event starts on the 21st, and depending on how long the game lasts, we’ll  probably leave for home the next morning. There’s a glass bottle portkey in a forest a little ways away from your town, so that’s what we’ll use to get to the game. There’s scheduled times for when the portkey operates, and my maman wants to get there earlier in the day since she’s part of the Ministry, as everyone and their dogs already know. She’s not even part of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, or even Magical Transportation, she’s Magical Accidents and Catastrophes for Merlin’s sake! There’s no reason to get there so early but that's how she wants it. But whatever, just get back to us, hopefully with a yes. Because it would be a waste of money if you said no, obviously.
> 
>  
> 
> Jean

 

Eren’s first reaction is to nearly fall off the bed in shock, then let out a triumphant shout of glee and start jumping up and down on his bed, while fist pumping the air and whooping. Amina and Thornbeak stop their strange owl flirting to eye him with curiosity and mild concern.

When he lands back down on the now rumpled blankets, he reads the letter over again just to make sure he isn't dreaming. Eren let out a laugh at Jean’s characteristic bluntness and giant, one coma paragraph of a sentence at the beginning, then he frowned when he read again that he and Marco are the only two people Jean feels he can call friends. Jean probably hadn’t meant it to sound so personal and deep; he was probably just rushing to get out his reason for writing a letter to Eren. But even still, it really makes Eren sympathize for him, especially since he’d been in Jean’s shoes before for the majority of his life before discovering he was a wizard. Sure, Jean’s harsh exterior deters most people, hell it made him and Jean hate each other at first glance, but Eren’s not exactly so easy to get along with either. Marco was one person in a million who was patient enough to give Jean a chance, and through their parents’ assistance, eventually so had Eren. He wishes people could be a little more willing to stick around and see what's behind people’s walls, then maybe people like him and Jean wouldn't have to go through periods of feeling so hopelessly alone.

But anyway, enough of that. Eren’s got news of the century to go run downstairs and yell into his parents ears, and he promises to himself that he’ll make the whole event worthwhile both for himself, and Jean.

When Eren bounces onto his parents bed (they weren’t in it, don't worry) and waves the letter around, his parents are almost as happy as their son is, and enthusiastically give Eren the approval to write back “yes”. 

The three of them stumble back up into Eren’s room so that Eren can finally introduce his parents to the much talked about Thornbeak, who they find snuggled up into Amina’s much larger side. Carla and Grisha aww and coo at them, scratching their heads, before agreeing that it would only be polite to let her stay the night and go hunting with Amina before sending her back to Trost in the morning with Eren’s response.

They all watch the two owls take off for their first ever hunt together, Thornbeak eagerly following out Eren’s bedroom window after Amina. Eren knows she will keep Thornbeak out of trouble. He can’t help but think this is technically kind of like their first date, and can’t wait to jokingly tell Jean that their owls are going out now. They’re terrific wingmen, honestly. 

Eren slips under the covers after watching the two hooting owls disappear off into the night, receives kisses on his forehead from both his parents ( _ honestly _ , he's fourteen) and then drifts off to sleep, dreams of the Quidditch World Cup dancing around in his head. 

_____

_____

 

Eren’s never been to India before. Hell, the only countries outside of England he's ever visited are Germany and Turkey because that's where he has family, so along with being a trip to see the wizarding world’s biggest sporting event, this will also be a little vacation to India, so he's promised to take lots of pictures for his parents. Eren knows there isn't enough time to try and learn one of the languages spoken in India (he's Googled it, and there’s a fuck-ton), but he and Jean have been exchanging letters since that first night in July and Jean’s assured him that translators and linguists will be all over the place. 

August 19th finally arrives one cool, summer morning, and true to their word, bright and early at five o’clock before the sun is even up, Eren and his parents hear the familiar rumble of the Kirschtein’s car coming from outside in the sky. They rush out of the door, Eren with all his things crammed into an overstuffed backpack (clothes, wand, camera, binoculars, a bunch of wizarding money, and his necklace safely around his neck), but don't actually see the car, despite the engine getting louder. They follow the noise until it drops to ground level and stops in the middle of their driveway, seemingly spilling out from space itself. Eren and his parents are as confused as ever, but then to all of their astonishment, the green, old-fashioned car appears into sight out of thin air, with Jean grinning smugly at Eren’s look of amazement from the passenger seat. 

_ ‘Of course! They’d have to use invisibility now that they're driving in broad daylight!’ _ Eren thinks. He turns to his parents and simply says, “Invisibility cloak.”

They gape at him, then back at the car. The engine cuts, and a sweaty Ms. Kirschtein, wearing her best attempt at muggle clothing in a creamy, wool sweater and fishing pants, exits from the driver’s side, coming around the hood to give both of Eren’s parents greetings. They try to suppress laughter at her attire, and she nervously asks them if she looks muggle enough. Grisha, through his chuckles, tells her that the sweater is meant for winter, and then offers to bring her inside and give her some of their clothes. She sheepishly accepts, and the three head inside, telling Eren they’ll be back in a moment.

Eren walks over just as Jean’s about to open his door, and starts rapping his fingers repeatedly on the glass just to be annoying. Jean gives him a glare through the glass, then shouts at him to move. He’s just barely audible through the window, but Eren steps back with a shit-eating grin to let Jean get out, the pureblood looking significantly more muggle-like than his mother, in a navy striped t-shirt and some cargo shorts and converse. Eren notices Jean’s gotten slimmer and taller yet (though he’s only a  _ little _ bit taller than Eren, maybe five centimeters), but still has just as much acne as ever, and the same goes for Eren. His face still isn't quite the right size for his nose or ears, but neither is Eren’s for his eyebrows.

“Suddenly I regret inviting you along.” Jean’s voice, all playful banter but sounding a little raspy and squeaky like Eren’s, is a nice thing to hear.

“Too late, richboy, no backing out now.” Eren teases. “You’re stuck with me for three whole  _ days _ . Maybe more.” 

“ _ Merlin _ , help me.”

Eren laughs as Jean goes around back to get out his own backpack from the trunk. “You’d  _ think _ my maman would have a better sense of muggle fashion, what with her close proximity to them nearly  _ every day _ , but no.” 

Eren giggles some more, finding Jean’s use of “maman” to be cute. As Jean swings the pack over his shoulder, he boasts, “I  _ actually _ paid attention to what the muggle kids in our neighbourhood wear, so I’m not swimming in my own sweat.”

“True, but I don’t think cargo shorts are entirely your thing.” Eren grins, kicking the other’s leg a little while giving him a once-over. Yeah, baggy really isn’t working for him, that’s more Eren’s thing.

Jean huffs, shifting a little to balance the weight on his back, and returns the light kick to the shin. “Well, what  _ would _ be my thing, o’wise muggle fashionista?” He wiggles his fingers for emphasis on “fashionista”, but keeps his thumbs hooked under the backpack straps.

Eren hums and thinks seriously for a few seconds, surveying Jean again. “You’d look good in chino shorts, or flat fronts.”

“What are those?”

“They’re similar to each other, less loose and baggy, and most of ‘em end above the knee.” Jean takes a look down at his tan cargo shorts, bending one leg as he considers Eren’s words. Eren continues, still thinking. “I read somewhere that guys with long, slim legs look better with those kinda shorts.”

Jean turns a little red and looks back up at Eren. “L… long, slim legs?”

Eren feels himself blush a little too, realizing he just inadvertently complimented his friend’s legs. “W-well yeah, I mean you’ve been on a growth spurt since second year. I’m only being honest, ahaha…” He thanks every God and holy deity out there that his dark skin, made darker by the summer sun, is hiding his blush from Jean’s view. Jean laughs awkwardly, and Eren feels like bashing his head into the roof of their car. 

_ ‘Idiot, even if he was into guys, you’re not into him so what the fuck! He’s your friend, you  _ just _ established friendship, friends don’t compliment each other’s legs until you’re further into the friendship! Eren, what are you doing!?’ _ He mentally screams at himself.

Thankfully, at that moment, their parents return from their wardrobe spree, Ms. Kirschtein now in some denim mom shorts that go past the knee, and a loose, light purple shirt. She and Eren’s parents are laughing among themselves as they near the two boys, saving them from their own embarrassment. 

“Alright boys, how do I look now?” Ms. Kirschtein jokingly strikes a pose, as Eren’s parents laugh some more.

“Maaaaaaa,” Jean groans, face going red again as Eren gives her a thumbs-up. “Much better.” He grins.

“Thank you, at least  _ someone _ appreciates my effort.” She looks pointedly at her son, pretending to be offended, and walks over to their open trunk to lift up a backpack of her own, much bigger than Jean’s or Eren’s, then closes the trunk and strides back over to the group.

“Well, this is where we take off.” She smiles at Eren’s parents, hoisting the large pack onto her shoulders, then gives Eren a rough pat on the back. “We’ll bring him back safe and sound. It’s alright if I leave the car in your driveway, yes? It attracts less attention than if we were to leave it in the middle of the woods. It’s fine with you? Good, we’ll see you in a few days! Goodbye!”

With that, she starts heading down towards the end of the road, which fades out into a worn forest path. Jean and Eren hurry after her, then Eren promptly turns around so that he’s walking backwards and calls, “Take care of Amina for me!”

His parents wave.

Eren turns back around with a smile, and he, Jean, and Ms. Kirschtein make their way into the grassy forest. 

“The portkey shouldn’t be that far in, we’ll be there in fifteen minutes tops.” Jean tells Eren as he steps over a rock half-buried into the narrow dirt path. 

Glancing at the still-dark sky, the first rays of brightness finally starting to peek out from what Eren assumes is East, Eren asks, “Why, again, are we leaving so early?”

“Why, because I work in the Ministry of Magic!” Ms. Kirschtein cries from in front of them, having procured herself a walking stick. “I need to make sure I can be ready to help, if need be. And by the way, there’s a five and a half hour time difference between us and India, so when we get there it’ll be eleven in the afternoon.”

“Sounds like some serious jetlag,” Eren jokes, only to receive confused glances from Ms. Kirschtein and Jean in front of him. He sighs. “Jetlag is when your body clock hasn’t adjusted to the new time zone you’re in.” He explains flatly.

“Ah, well you two will get to nap when we’re secured and comfy.”

The three of them walk quietly through the trees, grunting and panting a little bit, before they finally make it to a small, dirt clearing. It’s so small that the canopy of leaves above them doesn’t make any indication of change, but big enough for them to stand around with some personal space. 

“Ah, here it is,” Ms. Kirschtein mumbles, going over to where the foretold, empty glass bottle is dangling by a string tied around the neck. The string is knotted to a tree branch, leaning just a little ways into the clearing, and the bottle hangs at Eren’s eye level. 

“Alright, you two, come around, come around,” Ms. Kirschtein ushers, then brings out her arm to check her watch. “How much time do we ha —  _ oh my! _ Eighteen seconds! Boys, put your hands on the bottle  _ now _ ! Yes, yes, good!”

Eren knew just enough about portkeys to try and prepare himself for what was coming; this would be one hell of a first time experience but he had absolutely no intention of being left behind to miss the Cup. He’d gone and wrapped his whole hand tightly around the bottom of the bottle, for he wasn’t entirely sure if there was a rule for how much of what body part had to be touching the portkey for a person to get transported. Again, he wasn’t taking any risks.

“—And we have ten seconds! Ni— no, eight — seven — six —”

Jean’s right hand was wrapped around the section above Eren’s, and Eren tried not to think anything of their hands touching. Ms. Kirschtein had two fingers and a thumb curled around the neck of the bottle.

“— three — two —  _ oh, here we go _ !”

It happened like lightning, like a force lashing out through the bottle and latching onto him through his connected hand, anchoring him there as his feet suddenly were no longer on ground, but flying out behind him dramatically. Wind howled around them, whipping and batting Eren’s brown hair around, and he closed his eyes so the strands wouldn’t get in them, but not before he caught sight of swirling, flashing color, feeling Jean’s shoulder bumping erratically into his, and then —

His body was slammed into the ground, he heard Jean let out a cry as he landed harshly next to Eren, and when he opened his eyes, Eren saw the bottom of the glass bottle — Portkey — dangling above his head. 

Ms. Kirschtein was standing, although looking rather windswept, and ushered he and Jean to get up. “Come on, up you get.”

“What an  _ unpleasant _ mode of transportation,” Jean complained, turning onto his stomach and pushing himself to his feet with a grunt, Eren moving to do the same.

“You’ll learn to land on your feet eventually.” Ms. Kirschtein tsked and started brushing off her son’s backside as he squeaked away in embarrassment. “Come  _ here _ , Jean, you’ve got dirt on you— ”

“ _ Ahem. _ ”

The three looked up and saw a tall, elderly Indian woman with stringy, gray hair, octagon shaped spectacles, and a Bindi, draped in intricate, colorful fabrics, the animals and people embroidered on them seeming to move. She held a golden watch in one hand, and a long, colorful feather quill in the other, which was poised against a floating piece of parchment. She looked tired and grumpy, and was tapping her foot impatiently, standing a few paces away from the hanging Portkey. 

She spoke with a raspy voice and an accent Eren couldn’t exactly recognize. “I’m assuming you speak English, so if you’ll be so kind as to proceed to…” She squinted and looked over the parchment in front of her.  “The Kirschtein campsite is a quarter of a kilometer from here, second feild you come to. Check the signs, your site manager is Mr. Kaleka. Now, I’ve got a rather large party coming in from Nunavut in exactly twenty-two seconds, so you may want to move.”

Eren and Jean evicted themselves from the landing zone immediately after hearing that, Ms. Kirschtein leisurely following behind as they set off down a new dirt path. As Eren looked around at the different, bushier, taller trees, the sun high in the sky, and felt the sweltering summer heat, he realized with a start,  _ ‘I’m in India!!’ _

He felt a  _ whoosh _ go past his legs from behind, where the Portkey was, and heard a few thumps and shouts as another group warped in. He and Jean glanced behind them to see a large party of people talking rapidly, some laying on the ground as Eren and Jean had, as the Portkey manager, irritated, tried to get their attention. Eren and Jean shared a look, and chuckled.

The three of them came out of the clutch of trees, and found themselves standing at the head of a wooden bridge, going over a shallow, wide lake. They crossed it, and continued on for that quarter of a kilometer until they reached the check-in building — a little, baby blue painted wooden cottage — where a man Eren guessed was Mr. Kaleka was facing out the window. Eren heard Ms. Kirschtein mutter something under her breath, before striding up to him with a wide smile.

“नमस्ते!(Hello!)” Ms. Kirschtein greeted in Hindi, as Eren gawked and Jean punted a rock, irritation from having to wake up so early kicking in. 

“ 'किश्तीन' के तहत आरक्षण, हाँ, हां, मैं आपको कितना ऋण है?( Reservation under ‘Kirschtein’, yes, yes, how much do I owe you?)”

She and Mr. Kaleka conversed back and forth for a few moments, Ms. Kirschtein giving him some money (Indian muggle money, Eren noticed), letting out a nervous laugh after a few moments, before they were done and she was leading the two boys further into the camp grounds. She muttered something again, then was back to English.

“Wow, that’s one really cool spell.” Eren complimented.

“Why, thank you, son.” She then sighed. “Apparently some of us have been pushing it with the magic; he’s started to suspect weird goings ons. Someone might need to give him a memory charm sooner or later…”

A little more walking, and finally, the three found themselves standing on top of a little hill rise, looking down at the largest spread of tents and people Eren had ever seen in his life. Indian and Australian flags were adorned everywhere, as well as littler flags from the many different countries from around the world people had come here from. People flew over the crowds on brooms, tossing balls between each other, salespeople walked around shouting advertisements for their merchandise, adults and children alike talked and laughed, the scents of various foods wafting up to them, and singing and chanting carried up into the air. Eren couldn’t help but grin at the festive spectacle, ever thankful that he wouldn’t be missing even a second of it.

The three headed down into the campsites, Ms. Kirschtein yelling for them to keep up as she searched for the Kirschtein reservation, but everything was just so distracting! Eren saw that many witches and wizards had spiced up their tents a little, some even ridiculously so that it was no wonder Mr. Kaleka was getting suspicious. 

“Ah! Here we are!” Ms. Kirschtein cried, stopping in front of a sign that read KIRSCHTEIN. Behind it, was a tent shorter than Eren, and no wider than if he were to stick his arms out to his sides. And even stranger, a metal pipe was poking out of the top.

“Uh… are you sure this will fit all three of us?” Eren asked, uncomfortable.

“Absolutely! We even have an extra bed just for you! Now come on in, come on in!”

She went in first, then Jean with none of Eren’s hesitation. Eren looked skeptically at the tiny tent, then ducked under the flaps. However, when he looked up, his jaw dropped in astonishment. The inside of the tent, which Eren now realized was obviously charmed, had more than enough room for three. 

Upon entering, there was a large middle room that had multiple patterned rugs laid out over the grass as well as four, candle-like, glass lanterns hanging in a square from the ceiling. A few cushy green and yellow armchairs were in set up in a circle in the room, and had a wooden fold-out table in the middle. An old-fashioned stove was off to the side with a pipe leading up through the top of the tent (so  _ that’s  _ what that was). At the back of the main room were a few wooden steps that lead up to a little platform with a closed, wooden door and a crescent moon carved into it. That was probably the bathroom.

And finally, on either side of the main room there were curtains tied back to reveal two more rooms — one with two twin beds where Eren guessed he and Jean would be sleeping, Jean having already thrown his pack at the foot of one and belly flopped onto it — and the other one held a single bed, which Ms. Kirschtein was already sitting down and emptying her pack on. The whole place had a bready aroma, and Eren wondered if the Kirschtein household smelled like that.

“ … Wow…” Eren whispered.

Excited as he was, he was also exhausted, as was Jean. Two fourteen-year-old boys having to get up at four-thirty in the morning? Preposterous! And so, before either Jean or Eren could unpack, they both fell onto their new, temporary beds for a nice, long, nap.

_____

_____

 

“ … I’m pretty sure those two sixth years are secretly dating, or something. You know, the Gryffindor Beater and the Ravenclaw Keeper?”

“Yeah, yeah, their names are… Rhino and Turtle or something?”

“Reiner and Bertholt.” Eren corrects with a chuckle, as they trot past an African wizard being closely followed by a sleek, magnificent pet cheetah. “Honestly, everyone can tell they fancy each other, one of them should just step up and ask already.”

Jean snickers as a Vietnamese mother quickly whizzes by after her toddler, who has somehow gotten their grabby little hands on a Cleansweep and is flying uncontrollably through the masses. Eren can’t help but laugh himself as he watches them disappear once again into the crowd of people and tents. 

The two nearly slept the day away yesterday before Ms. Kirschtein woke them up for dinner — a simple skillet ratatouille, which Ms. Kirschtein admitted was supposed to be served in winter but she’d gone ahead and made it anyway, and Eren managed to refrain from making any movie references about that the two purebloods wouldn’t catch — and then gone right back to sleep again. Teenagers, am I right?

Now, the Quidditch World Cup was tonight, in just a few hours. Ms. Kirschtein had departed the tent after breakfast to find other Ministry officials and assist in organization, so now Jean and Eren were walking around with their little money bags (Eren had found someone to trade in his muggle allowance for wizarding currency, Jean on the other hand just asked mommy) and were more or less just talking and shopping, though they hadn’t bought anything yet.

As they’d strolled around, Jean had revealed to Eren that the Indian Ministry of Magic was really not fond of quidditch and brooms as a whole, because they impaired the flying carpet trade they had going. But, their national quidditch team had valiantly fought their way up into the finals with some of the best quidditch players in a while, so there was nothing their Ministry officials could say to backlash it now. Although, Eren sort of zoned out after the mention of flying carpets.

“So who are we rooting for?” Eren asked Jean, looking around at the many patriotic items being sold for India and Australia. Salespeople were apparating every few feet with their carts, shouting their goods to the masses. There were Indian and Australian flags that sung their country’s national anthem when waved, hats, glasses, jerseys, and shirts with moving pictures of various different players on them, and the coolest thing in Eren’s opinion: little collectable figurines of famous players that strolled across the palm of your hand and preened themselves.

“India,  _ duh _ ! Have you  _ seen _ their scores this season? They’ve got the best, new Chaser the world has seen in  _ years _ !” Jean gushed. “He’s practically carrying the team, I mean  _ sure _ they rest of ‘em are genuinely good too, but he’s the best of all! He’s  _ amazing _ , you wait until tonight, you’ll see.”

Eren grinned at Jean’s rambling. “What’s his name?”

“Dev Sahil.” Jean practically sighed, picking up a figurine of said Chaser, whose figurine had shaggy, shoulder-length, dark hair, a muscular build, and a radiant smile, which was currently being cast in Jean’s direction. Eren stopped and squinted at him for a second, gears in his head turning at Jean’s lovestruck expression, which didn’t seem like the look you make when talking about a mere idol. “Is he like… your man crush?”

Jean snapped out of his dream-like state, put the giggling figurine back down on a dejected salesman’s cart, and instantly whirled around to start screaming and sputtering his denial at Eren, who was only grinning even wider at the boy’s reddened face giving him away. Eren took off running through the crowd, chanting, “JEAN AND DEV, SITTIN’ IN A TREE! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”, Jean taking hot pursuit after him, still yelling excuses. “I DON’T HAVE A CRUSH ON HIM! EREN, STOP!”

The two dashed past tents and people, Eren dodging under someone’s dress, hopping over carts of merchandise, and taking sharp turns to throw Jean off, but Jean didn’t let up, and eventually snagged his hand on the back of Eren’s shirt and pulled him back.

They stood still for a second, panting, and realized they were far off from their original tent. Jean swallowed, let go of Eren’s shirt, straightened up and looked him in the eye with a shaky, nervous expression. “Look, Eren, I  _ don’t _ have a crush on him, okay? I don’t.”

Eren’s only response was to grin again, and raise an eyebrow. Jean’s brows drew together in anger.

“I’m serious!” He yelled, getting a few, uninterested stares. “ _ Don’t _ bring it up again, okay?”

Eren was still smiling wide. “Jean, it’s not a big dea— ”

“Okay?”

“It’s really not— ”

“ _ Okay?” _ Jean said, firmer and more pointed this time. Eren stopped, and noticed there was a hint of… fear in Jean’s eyes. His grin fell.

“Jean…  you  know it’s…  _ okay _ to like guys, right?”

Jean stayed quiet and didn’t meet Eren’s eyes. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“But— ”

“ _ I said _ ,” Jean hissed through grit teeth. “I  _ don’t _ want to talk about it.” 

Eren stayed quiet, having tuned out the movement of people around them. 

“Okay?” Jean repeated, amber eyes finally flitting up to meet Eren’s emerald ones.

Eren swallowed, and nodded. “Okay.” He said, 100%  _ not _ okay, and fully intending to press the issue later, but lay off for now.

He quickly looked around for something to change the subject and lighten the mood, and to his amazement, saw Mikasa, Sasha and Marco talking in a circle by some tents. 

“Mikasa! Sasha! Marco!” He waved, and Jean turned to face that direction, surprised.

The three looked up, Mikasa’s eyes widened a little, and Sasha and Marco cracked smiles at the sight of the two boys. A freckled face poked out of one of the tent flaps, a little girl, who Eren supposed was Marco’s little sister.

“Hey guys!” Marco beckoned them over as Sasha ran over and football-tackled Eren in a hug. He wobbled a little then steadied them, laughing, before she dropped to the ground again as Mikasa pulled her off of Eren. 

“So I take it that “extra ticket” you found was from Jean?” Sasha asked. Eren nodded, as Jean received a stuck-out tongue from Marco’s little sister. Jean gasped overdramatically, causing her to giggle and then duck back inside the Bodt tent. Eren heard a few more youthful squeals emanate from within the tent and— oh right, he remembered Marco has a crap ton of younger siblings.

“That’s so nice of you, Jean!” Marco said, smiling proudly at his best friend, causing Jean to turn back to his best friend, his ears a little pink. “Oh, yeah, well, you know…” He stammered.

“When did you two get here?” Mikasa asked. 

“Yesterday.” Eren turned to her. “How about you guys?”

“Mom, dad and I just got here a few minutes ago, they were already here.” She gestured go Sasha and Marco.

Sasha butted in, “And Marco was here before me ‘n dad!”

Marco smiled sheepishly. “And we’d only just gotten here a few minutes before.”

Eren blinked. “Wow.”

After Jean accusingly made sure they were all in support of India, Eren viciously fighting back a teasing comment about Dev ( _ ‘Not yet, Eren!’ _ ), Marco suggested they all go shopping together before the Cup officially began. 

While buying Indian flags that sung, hats, and getting face paint that waved across your face, Eren noticed with mild interest that Jean no longer got all flustered around Mikasa. Eren, knowing Mikasa so well, could tell through her stoic expressions that she was ten thousand times more eager to talk to the boy now that his crush appeared to have dissipated. 

_ ‘Good for them, then, Jean’s found a new dark-haired someone to crush on anyway.’ _ Eren thought, eyeing another Dev figurine that was sticking it’s tongue out at one of the Australian ones. He knew not to push it, but if Jean really was struggling with his own sexuality, Eren felt an obligation to help. 

_ ‘Later, Eren, later!’ _

After a while, the group split in two and returned to their own tents, as the time for the competition had arrived. Jean and Eren met back up with Mrs. Kirschtein. Adorned in their hats and waving face paint, they made their way through the woods on a lantern-lit trail, with the cherrily singing and chanting crowd. Jean and Eren play-fenced with their flags as they went, but Ms. Kirschtein quickly demanded they cut it out before the stick part ended up in someone’s eyes, but even still, the joyous atmosphere wasn’t soiled for either of them. 

The stadium was  _ enormous _ —  _ much _ bigger than any football field, Eren theorized, maybe even bigger than  _ six _ football fields! 

“Seats a hundred thousand,” Jean whispered to Eren as they descended the metal stairs, Eern looking around in awe at the people across the stadium, and the giant hoops on either end. “ ‘Cus mom’s a Ministry Worker, we’ve got seats halfway down.”

They continued going down, down, down and then a short ways around to three empty seats. To think that Marco, Sasha, and Mikasa were elsewhere in this gigantic stadium was incredible. The cheering and chanting was deafening, but Eren couldn’t stop smiling. They finally sat down, Jean in the middle, and looked over at the long, oval quidditch field.

Even though it was night, the stadium was brightly illuminated in such a way that you’d have no idea. Both the Australian and Indian team’s mascots were dancing about the stadium — a million, shimmering blue Billywigs buzzing in a cloud for Australia, and a herd of magnificent, scaled Occamys for India.

Suddenly, Ms. Kirschtein pointed out, “Look! It’s the Indian Minister for Magic!”

Eren and Jean leaned over the guard rails to look down the row, and saw a little balcony where an elegantly robed woman stood, head held high and a contagious smile across her lips. They saw her raise her wand to her mouth, and begin to speak.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and people of all identities,” Her voice was as grand and poised as her character, and Eren was awed to hear her voice echoed around the stadium in a million different languages. “... it is with great pleasure that I welcome each and every one of you, to the final of the four hundred and twenty-eighth Quidditch World Cup!”

The crowd roared in approval. 

“And now, without further ado, let me announce… the Australian National Quidditch Team!”

One side of the stadium — the one coated in Australian flags — cheers loudly, while Jean starts booing next to Eren, getting him to start laughing. 

“I give you Echunga!” 

An orange-clad figure shot out of an entrance down below, to wild applause of the Australian supporters, moving so fast they appeared as a blur. 

“Hastings!”

Another figure shot out to join their teammate on the right end of the field. 

“Monteith! Whakkaarangapawaru! Meadows! Nuhaka! Aaaaaaaand —  _ Karoonda _ !”

All the players are now hovering at mid-field, then form a V-formation and start flying all the way around the oval pitch. Jean leans back when they go past their side of the stadium, while Eren squeezes his eyes shut to protect them from the windy onslaught their speedy flying brings. 

“And now, the Indian National Quidditch Team!”

Jean screams now, and Eren starts cheering loudly as well. 

“I give you Acharya! Modi! Singh! !Sikdar Melike! Sahil! Aaaaaaaand —  _ Peterso _ n!”

All seven players zoomed out of a different entrance down below as flashes of green. Eren’s (and Jean’s) eyes immediately fell on the real life Dev Sahil, who was smiling radiantly and blowing kisses to fans as he flew around the pitch, his fellow players doing the same. If you asked Eren, this guy seemed like the physical embodiment of a Leo. When Dev flew past their section, to Eren’s great amusement, he made direct eye contact with Jean when he blew his next kiss, then kept flying around. 

Eren was nearly peeing himself with laughter when he saw the look on Jean’s alarmingly red face and felt him—  _ felt him _ go stiff next to him. Ms. Kirschtein was none the wiser, and kept cheering and chanting with the rest of the pro-India fans. 

“And now,” The Indian Minister for Magic continued, her elegant voice still being projected around in every language imaginable. “Let the game begin!”

The ref quickly took over down on the pitch, mounting his broom and kicking a crate open, releasing the leather Quaffle, two black Bludgers, and for the briefest, tiniest second before it sped away, the small Golden Snitch. 

“Theeeeey’re OFF!” Screamed the ref, as all fourteen players quickly began dashing around to nab at the ball. “Modi’s got the— no, Nuhaka steals— Singh takes back— Echunga! Acharya! Hastings! Sahil takes the ball!”

They were all moving at a speed Eren had never seen before in Quidditch, the ball got passed around, stolen, and passed again so fast that his eyes were constantly darting all about the pitch. He and Jean were on the edge of their seats, and both let out wild cheers and whoops when Dev twirled around Hastings and reclaimed the ball. Jean was right— Dev really was quite impressive to watch. He flew around with the most grace Eren had ever seen in a Chaser, light and almost weightless, but still incredibly fast. 

“Whakka— Whakkarang—  _ Merlin how do you say that _ — Whakkaarangapawaru chases after Sahil!” The ref shrieked. Eren watched as several other Australian players began chasing after Dev (he  _ really _ was making a spotlight for himself) when the two Indian Beaters whacked the Bludgers their way. Australia’s Beaters were on the other side of the field, so both balls made near-hits, causing two of the players to waver off Dev’s tail. He was nearing the goal.

Eren’s mouth dropped open.  _ ‘Is he really going to get a goal this early into the game?’ _ No wonder Jean was smitten. This guy was everything Eren  _ hoped _ to be as a Chaser.

“SAHIL SCORES!” 

Jean roared next to Eren, jumping up and down and waving his arms about. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” And Eren couldn’t help but do the same. 

Dev made a lap of honor around at the stadium, grinning as his name was chanted over and over again. 

“Ah, but it’s still early,” The ref was saying. “Echunga has got the Quaffle!”

Dev quickly sped back down into the fray. All the players dashed in and around each other, clearly more professional than any of their house teams at school. Within ten minutes, Dev had scored another goal, then another, then another of the Indian players, before Monteith took everyone by surprise and flew past India’s defense. 

“Ten thirty to Australia!” The ref screamed. 

The Indian Beaters kept a close watch on Monteith after that, allowing another goal to be made for India (by yet another player other than Dev), while Peterson and Karoonda, the Seekers, hovered overhead, keenly watching for any trace of the Golden Snitch. 

“This can last for a whole  _ week _ ?” Eren asked, leaning close to Jean’s ear so that he could hear him over the thunderous stomping and roars of support. Jean nodded, then both of them sharply turned back to the field when the ref called out another point to Australia. 

“What? No, no, no, what’s going on?” Jean cried, leaning over the railing once again, Eren following suit. 

The Australians had found a way to breach India’s defense by grouping up, but the Beaters on India’s team got rougher and countered. The game went on with this back and forth like this, getting faster and more brutal, both teams racking up points, India all ways just a few steps ahead. Eren couldn’t even begin to think how long it had been, he probably would’ve been exhausted if he weren’t so hyped up. 

Suddenly, the ref let out a shout, “Karoonda and Peterson have seen the Snitch! There they go!” 

The whole stadium got impossibly louder, and Eren and Jean watched in earnest as the two Seekers raced after the tiny little flash of gold. Eren knew that they couldn’t leave the pitch, but could go as high up as the Snitch would go, and up the Snitch went.

Eren, Jean, Ms. Kirschtein, and all the spectators craned their necks up, up, up as the two Seekers ascended. 

“Whoever catches the Seeker wins the game!”

Jean suddenly pointed out, “Look!”

While all the other players were busy looking at Karoonda and Peterson, Dev had taken the Quaffle and was tossing it through the hoop, to the surprise of their Keeper. 

“SAHIL SCORES!”

All other players quickly refocused as Karoonda and Peterson kept racing for the clouds, but Dev had the clear advantage and began flying circles around Australia’s players, as his fellow Chasers zig-zagged, swerved, and flipped around to block all contact from their star player. 

Australia’s two Beaters performed a Dopplerbeater defence (hitting a Bludger at the same time), and sent to ball flying violently towards Dev’s head. Eren’s jaw dropped open, Jean closed his eyes next to him, and the whole stadium seemed to go tense, but just in the nick of time, Dev did a Sloth Grip Roll, dodging the Bludger completely. 

“Jean, Jean, open your eyes!” Eren shrieked, shaking Jean excitedly. Jean looked up and nearly fell down in relief. 

Dev righted himself on his broom, then quickly sped off towards the goal pitch.

“If Dev makes this goal, it won’t matter who catches the Snitch!” Eren cried, jumping up and down again. Jean was too awestruck to say anything. 

All three of Australia’s Chasers flew furiously at Dev, attempting to close him off, but then Dev through the Quaffle over them, and while their eyes were off him for the briefest second, he weaved around them, and hit the falling ball with the end of his broom.

“SAHIL SCORES AGAIN!”

Oh, this guy truly was incredible. 

Suddenly, Karoonda and Peterson came dashing back down again, Karoonda in the lead. The Snitch made a little circle around Dev, distracting him from blowing kisses again, then zoomed in and around Australia’s hoops, dancing around all the players. 

“Oh, now it’s jus’ rubbing it in.” Jean giggled, watching the players struggle not to touch the Snitch, for if anyone other than the Seeker caught the Snitch, they’d receive a foul. 

“Karoonda closes in, Peterson closely behind — Oh! Narrowly misses Meadows!” The ref yelled into his wand. 

And then finally,  _ finally _ , Karoonda’s hand clamped down around the Snitch, and the whole stadium erupted into cheering once again. 

“Karoonda’s caught the Golden Snitch! KAROONDA ENDS THE GAME — BUT INDIA WINS!”

Jean and Eren shook each other in victory, jumping around and shouting gleefully as India’s side of the stadium began chanting Dev’s name again. Jean and Eren joined in joyously, watching as all the players, including Dev, sunk down to the ground of the pitch, shook hands good-naturedly with each other, then Dev and another of the Chasers hold up the Cup. 

“INDIA WINS THE FOUR HUNDRED AND TWENTY-EIGHTH QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP!”

_____

_____

 

“So, that Dev, huh?” Eren murmured, turning onto his side in his new bed to face Jean. “You were right, he’s really somethin’.”

Jean was laying on his back, still glowing from the game. Ms. Kirschtein had wrangled the two hyper teens back to their tent for dinner, and then sent them to bed with a tired grin. She was no doubt knocked out at this time, but Eren and Jean were still awake. The little candle in the dish on the bedside table between the twin beds was the only light source in the room, and cast little, flickering shadows across the walls and the closed curtains of the room. 

“Yeah.” Jean sighed, still smiling. 

Then there was silence between them for a few moments, before Eren couldn’t stay quiet any more. “Hey… about earlier… if you like guys too, it’s cool— it’s normal— I like guys too, so don’t worry about me judging—”

“I’m not worried about you.” 

Eren blinked at Jean, waiting for him to elaborate. Jean brought his hands up to rest on his stomach and began fiddling with his fingers. “I…” He started softly. “It’s my mom.”

Eren sighed and tucked his arm under his pillow. “Is she… homophobic or something? Or,  _ bi _ phobic?” He laughed softly. “Wait, do you know what you are yet?”

He felt pride at the little curl of Jean’s lips, still picking at the portion of blanket over his stomach. Jean admitted quietly, “Yeah, I’m— I’m bi.” The word sounded a bit awkward and foreign on Jean’s tongue. Eren wondered if this was his first time saying it out loud. “But with my mom… like— I mean, I don’t know, but we’ve never talked about it so…”

“Then I think you might be jumping to conclusions. I mean, you obviously know her better than I do, but assuming the worst because you don’t know just seems a little… I dunno.” Eren stuck his leg out from under the covers. The summer night’s heat was getting to him. “Have you at least  _ tried _ talking to her about it? When’d you know you were bi?”

Jean shook his head. “I don’t want to talk to her about it— at least not until I know where she stands on the whole thing.”

That was fair, at least, but Eren still felt Jean was being just the slightest bit too expectant of the worst. “When’d you know?” Eren repeated.

Jean’s eyebrows furrowed. “Uh… I think I sorta knew last year, but didn’t really wanna address it, and then Dev happened, so…”

Eren let out an ugly snort at that. Jean rolled his eyes then let his head flop to the side to shoot a glare at Eren. “Shut your face hole, she’s gonna hear us.”

“When Dev blew that kiss at you, I was so sure you were gonna faint, and then your body was gonna flop over the railing—”

Jean put a hand over his face, trying to conceal his giggles. “ _ Oh my god _ , I wasn’t gonna  _ faint _ —”

“You so were!”

“No I wasn’t!”

They were arguing through bouts of laughter, trying oh-so very hard to keep quiet. Jean brought their conversation back to focus. “But— but— hold on,  _ shut up for a sec _ — what, are you bi too?”

Eren grinned, his giggles fading down. “Pan. Different in theory, same in practice.”

“... Ah.”

“Make a joke about frying pans, and I’m coming over there and punching you.”

Jean grinned, and held his hands up playfully. “Wasn’t gonna.”

“But anyway, you should talk to her,” Eren pushed. “You never know.”

Jean frowned once again. “And if I do and find out she’s completely against it?” He countered, on his side now too, facing Eren.  “What then, Eren? I’m not ready.”

Suddenly, they heard shuffling footsteps approach the curtains to their temporary bedroom, and both quickly flipped over and pretended to be sleeping. Eren heard the curtain being pulled aside, as Ms. Kirschtein quietly strolled in to check on them. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise a little as she leaned over him, then calmed a little when she went over to Jean’s bed. He heard a kiss, presumably to his forehead or something, and bit his lip to hold back a chuckle. Finally, he heard the sound of the curtain being pulled open again and then falling back, and her footsteps fading as she returned to her side of the tent. 

Eren slowly turned back over to face Jean, who had done the same. “Mama’s boy.”

Jean sneered and pulled a hand out from under his covers to flip Eren off. 

Eren laughed him off, then said, “But seriously, she seems like the type to— like, even if she doesn’t agree at first, she’d still love you anyway and try to accept and understand in time— you know?”

Jean was still frowning. “No, I don’t know, Eren.” 

Eren’s expression turned sour, and he scowled a little. “Look, I’m trying to hel—”

“But, aside from all that, thanks for coming with us.”

Eren snapped his mouth shut, and stared at Jean, who had his gaze averted to his bed sheets. “It… means a lot. Well, not a  _ lot _ , but, it- it means  _ something _ , I mean— whatever, just forget I said anything.” He promptly flipped over again, but not before Eren could catch his pink cheeks.

He smiled at Jean’s pajama-clad back. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Jean stayed quiet, so Eren turned over himself, and they both fell asleep. 

_____

_____

 

Nothing particularly exciting happened for the rest of the year. When Eren got back home, Amina shunned him for all but a few hours, angry with him for leaving, before finally caving in and demanding attention. 

Back at school, he, Mikasa, and Sasha filled Connie in on what he missed, that is, what he didn’t already know from the papers. Eren played his very hardest all Quidditch season that year, spurred on and inspired by watching Dev’s performance. He’d grown accustomed to rubbing the evil eye charm on his necklace with his thumb and then kissing it once before every game for good luck, and if this year’s scores were any indication, his  büyükann e was giving him all the support heaven would allow her to. 

He and Sasha practiced trying to do the Finborough Flick  — the move Dev pulled to score the last goal by hitting the Quaffle with his broomstick — and laughed at each other when they continuously slipped up. 

Connie’s parents finally let him get a toad, which he named Kofi. “Even if it’s supposed to be a boy’s name and she’s a girl,” Connie had said. “No one’s gonna care, and I like it anyway. It sounds like “coffee”, and I got her on a Friday, so the name makes sense.”

Kofi was a simple American toad, and didn’t really croak much. She was shy around everyone but Connie so far, but that was to be expected. Sasha had apparently gone to get the toad with Connie, and came back with one herself, which she named “Potato”. Potato was also an American toad, and he and Kofi seemed to be best friends already. 

Mikasa and her parents had decided to get a cat over the summer, an all black sweetheart which they named “Lion” after he ate a dandelion outside their house. Eren playfully pretended to be betrayed that Mikasa was a cat person. She simply smiled and shook her head at him. 

And finally, a little puppy had taken to following Armin’s grandpa around, so the old man had decided to keep the yapping little thing, and had taken it to the vet. She was a little mix between a pug and a boston terrier, or a “Bugg” as Armin and his grandfather were calling it. And so, they’d also decided to name their new little puppy “Bugg” as well. 

They all met each other’s new pets over winter break, and again during spring break. At the end of the year, Eren and his parents traveled out to see Carla’s side of the family in celebration of Gryffindor winning the Inter-House Quidditch Cup, a feat Eren was over the moon to having contributed largely to. He ate so much of his uncle’s Aşure and his aunt’s Baklava that he got a stomach ache, but it still felt good. 


	5. Fifth Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter six is well on the way! I have a number of fun events in mind, so don't fret! I also really, REALLY would appreciate feedback of any and all kinds. :)

"One scoop of strawberry.” Jean stated rather than politely asked, sliding a few coins across the ice cream counter at Honeydukes. Mr. Flume, the large, bald man who owned the sweet shop with his wife, grunted as he collected the coins and set about getting Jean’s ice cream. 

“ _ Strawberry? _ ” Sasha gawked from Jean’s side. 

Jean scowled at her, the space between his eyebrows scrunching up. “What? You got a problem with strawberry?”

Sasha simply shook her head sullenly, while Connie sidled up to Jean’s other side and looped his arm around the taller boy’s neck. “Jean, Jean, Jean…” He muttered, being exaggeratedly somber. “You have Earl Grey & Lavender, Sticky Toffee Pudding, Chocolate Chili, Orange Marmalade, and you chose  _ strawberry? _ ”

Jean shrugged off Connie’s arm while Eren and Marco snickered behind them, and Mikasa and Armin sighed. “Okay, first of all, fuck you, and second of all, strawberry’s a good fucking flavor.”

“Language, kiddo.” Mr. Flume grunted, holding out Jean’s cone. Sasha and Connie only grinned at each other as Jean grumbled an apology and took his ice cream. The trio turned and made their way back to Eren, Marco, Mikasa, and Armin, who had already gotten their assorted bags of sweets from elsewhere in the shop. 

“Strawberry isn’t even that good, coconut is better.” Eren commented with a smile, popping the head of a Jelly Slug into his mouth and beginning to gnaw it off. The whole group exited through the door of the shop with a  _ ding! _ and walked back out onto the snowy Hogsmeade street. 

“Yes it fucking is. Coconut’s disgusting.” Jean countered.

“Language, kiddo!” Eren imitated Mr. Flume with a laugh, hitting Jean’s red beanie-d head with another Jelly Slug. “Coconut is goddamn  _ fantastic _ !”

Jean made a disgruntled noise, but smiled a little himself. He reached out and boxed the pom-pom of Eren’s annoyingly fluorescent pink knit hat in retaliation, earning a “Hey!” from Eren. 

“Knock it off, you two.” Armin called from a few feet ahead of them, sending a stern look back at the two teens. “You’re gonna end up slippi—  _ augh! _ ”

A snowball came hurling from further up the hill and  _ smacked _ into the back of Armin’s turned head, another one slapping a surprised Marco square in the chest, nearly causing him to drop his chartreuse green acid pop. They all looked up to see Connie and Sasha cackling and high-fiving at the top of the snowy street. “Yeah! Undermining Armom’s authority!” Connie whooped, as Sasha slipped on an invisible patch of ice and fell back into a snowbank with a giggly yelp.

Marco simply laughed and brushed the snow off from his coat, as Armin cupped a hand around his mouth and yelled a, “Told you!” At Sasha’s floundering form. 

Eren, however, quickly shoved his candy bag into Jean’s chest, demanding, “Hold my slugs,” then bent down to slap together a messy snowball, and with a battle cry, charged up the hill as Connie shrieked gleefully and ran off, leaving the fallen-over Sasha to face Eren’s wrath. Jean stopped walking and doubled over laughing as Eren pounced on Sasha and shoved his snowball down her moss brown coat before dashing off again after a fleeing Connie. Mikasa snickered under her breath as she jogged over to help Sasha up while Marco and Armin followed behind with chuckles of their own. 

Fifth year was going pretty nicely for Eren, so far. His voice had officially lowered, as had Jean’s, Armin’s, Connie’s and Marco’s, though he and Jean were the deeper of the five. Marco and Armin’s voices were of softer temperaments, while Connie’s was just as loud as Eren and Jean’s, though higher pitched. All of them still had a fair share of voice cracks, however, much to the delight of Mikasa and Sasha (and each other).

Earlier in the Quidditch season, he’d finally managed to pull off the Finborough Flick during an actual game (Gryffindor V.S. Slytherin), and so had Sasha during a practice some time after that. They were both still incredibly proud of that. Eren had ecstatically ran off and found Jean after the game (“Did you see that? Did you see that? Did you see that? I  _ did _ that!”), and Jean had clearly been impressed, though he did his weird pretends-not-to-be thing. Eren thinks it’s kinda cute, but not in  _ that _ way, he insists. 

The one thing that Eren  _ despises _ about fifth year, however, is O.W.L.s. The teachers have been piling on homework all year in preparation for the forsaken enormous exam, which Eren claims is complete bull because he’s “absolute shit at keeping track of assignments that aren’t projects.” It’s not like he’s a bad student, he’s just not an  _ astounding _ student. He is simply an  _ alright _ student, and he’ll take that since he cares  _ way _ more about Quidditch anyway, and he’s really been excelling at that. Oh also, Marco, Armin, and Mikasa are all Prefects now, but honestly, who  _ didn’t _ see that coming? 

In addition to all this new stuff, one thing that Eren feels somewhat makes up for the pressure of O.W.L.s is that Fifth year students can drop an elective class and take on two new ones of their choice. Eren has dropped Astrology because, “It’s sooooo goddamn boring. Like, I  _ know _ I’m an Aries and Aries are all aggressive and most romantically and sexually compatible with other fire signs and blah blah blah!” Besides, History of Magic, he claimed, was easier to slack off in while still keeping a passing grade.

The two classes Eren took up were Muggle Studies, because he figured he’d have an easier time in that one as a Muggle-born, and Care of Magical Creatures, because who doesn’t love funky, magical animals? 

Jean picked Art and Care of Magical Creatures as well, and he and Eren were now partners. Jean had liked the Kneazle unit better, while Eren enjoyed the Crups more. This only further fueled their little cat V.S. dog “rivalry”. 

Eren also got to hear Jean complain about how much the people in his drawings constantly nagged him about body parts he hadn’t gotten to yet, or missing a color spot, or inaccurate shading and things like that. Jean had already started erasing their mouths until he was done with a peice, just so he could hear himself think while he worked. Eren demanded to know where and when Jean’s Art class took place so he could barge in and watch. And also because he wanted to see Jean’s work.

Slightly off topic, but Eren really ought to thank whoever taught him the Muffliato Charm. It made jacking off in his dorm bed so much easier. Which was happening a shockingly frequent amount. Was it normal for an almost fifteen-year-old to think about sex that much? Probably not. Not like Eren was stopping anytime soon, though. 

He and some other muggle-borns had figured out a spell that, essentially, bubbled all electric static from a phone or computer and kept it contained, so that someone could use a phone in the school without disrupting the magical currencies. It was useful for googling quick answers, research for projects, watching porn in your dorm bed at 4 AM, calling mom and dad and letting them know you were okay, things like that. 

Back to the present. Connie comes dashing back down the snowy street with Eren charging behind him, yelling, “Truce! Truce, man! Truce!” 

Eren laughs a little, out of breath, and slows to a stop in front of the rest of their group. “Fine, truce.” He pants, dropping the snowball he had been holding.

Jean shoves Eren’s bag of candy back into his gloved hands, shaking his head at him lightheartedly. From somewhere a few streets over, they suddenly hear Levi squawking for everyone to  _ get your asses back here, it’s time to leave _ , so they begin making their way over to their short and short-tempered Hogsmeade-weekend-trip babysitter. 

While on the subject of porn, Eren’s wondered a few times how Jean even manages to do it.  _ ‘He doesn’t have a computer or a phone and you can't watch porn on a Nintendo, so…? Maybe he has magazines or something like back in the old days. Ugh, he's living like a nun.’ _

Finally, they made it to the cobblestone street where a cranky and red-nosed Levi was rounding up the rest of their student hoard. It was the week before Christmas break, and Eren didn’t particularly have any plans. He and his family had already visited their family in Turkey during the summer, so there wouldn’t be any traveling this time around. Nevertheless, he’ll be plenty happy for a more laid-back Christmas with just his parents and Amina. 

_____

_____

 

On Wednesday, Eren was in study hall, working very hard at procrastinating on his Charms homework, with Armin  _ actually _ doing some Transfiguration assignment of his own right next to him. Eren had already begged Armin to do his homework for him, but the blonde vigilantly refused. Now Eren was moping with his feet propped up on the chair across the table from the one he was already sitting in, legs going underneath the wooden table. 

“Armiiiiiiiin,” He whined for the millionth time that evening. 

“Ereeeen,” Armin sassed back quietly, tone a little dead as he kept his blue eyes glued to his paper. 

Eren huffed and slouched down in the chair until his feet pushed the other chair away from the table, and his chin was squashed against his sternum. He blew at some strands of brown hair to get them off his face, but they fell right back. His hair was getting a little long as of late, not long enough to ponytail but enough to qualify as longer-than-usual, but he kind of liked it and so, wasn’t getting a cut anytime soon.

There was a decent handful of students in the room with them, all softly either doing their homework like good children, or lounging around like Eren and whispering among themselves. Quills scratched against paper, pages flipped, people coughed, sneezed, and sniffled every so often, and a clock ticked away somewhere in the room. Everyone was in (respectively house colored) sweaters, as it was winter and there was a pretty bad flu going around. 

Mikasa was off somewhere with Lion, and Sasha and Connie had been kicked out for loudly singing “Take Me Out To The Ball Game”, so it was just Eren and Armin. 

Actually, that’s not true. Among the other students were Marco and Jean, who, in Eren’s opinion, were doing their best impression of a chick flick movie cover. They were leaning against each other’s backs on one of the big, pillowed window sills as fat snowflakes floated down outside the frosty window behind them. Marco was reading from one of the Fifth year Potions textbooks, while Jean was— wait, what  _ was _ he doing? 

Eren pushed himself up a little and leaned to the side — Armin made a dissatisfied noise — to squint over at Jean. Evidently, he had a piece of notebook paper leant against a book, and was aimlessly doodling a bunch of faceless stick figures, which were jumping all around the page. 

_ ‘There’s no way he already finished that Charms packet, he’s procrastinating too!’ _ Eren reasoned. 

He saw Jean put his pencil down on the window sill, and then cross his arms over his chest, letting the textbook and his paper of stick figures rest on his thighs. And  _ speaking _ of Jean’s thighs, Eren would like to take this moment to platonically appreciate how hot he’s kinda sorta maybe gotten. In all honesty, Jean’s still clearly got maybe a few more months left of his puberty while Eren probably still has another year, but at this moment in time, Jean’s  _ killin’ _ it. 

_ Platonically  _ he’s killin’ it _. _ Eren’s pan for a reason, you know? He recognizes  _ all _ forms of beauty. Not that Jean’s beautiful, because he certainly  _ isn’t _ , but he’s definitely got some things going for him. That’s all he’s saying. 

Like, way back in first year when they were both eleven, Jean had been the same height as Eren’s scrawny self, and pretty pudgy. And now, Jean’s maybe a whole head taller than Eren, who, granted, still has some height to gain, but regardless, Jean’s rather tall now. And he’s gotten lanky.  _ Oooh _ has he gotten lanky. Tall and slender is just  _ such _ a good body type combo, ya know?

Eren, on the other hand, has certainly gained muscle from Quidditch, and Armin’s told him is body type is more triangular. Armin had actually gone into more detail on the topic like a true nerd, saying something about ectomorph and mesomorph, but Eren simply teased the blonde about those things sounding like Pokémon. Either way, while he’d gone from a twig to an amatuer dorito, Jean’d gone from a pear to a twig. More like a tree branch, actually, because we’ve gotta account for his height. 

Besides, it’s not like he’s drop-dead gorgeous now, or something. He’s still got a few pimples, and has yet to grow any facial hair as Eren’s teased him about, meanwhile Eren was still figuring out how to appear less Chewbacca-like, as he’d put it—

“ _ Ahem. _ ” Armin whispered pointedly. “If you want to switch seats so you can Jean-watch, then just say so. I’m trying to work.”

Eren bristled, realizing what he was doing, and promptly sat back down in his chair to let Armin un-squish himself from the wall he’d been pressed up against. “I- I- I wasn’t— that’s not—”

“I understand, that yellow sweater  _ does _ look nice on him, but please.”

Eren roughly rubbed his hands over his face and grumbled. “Armin, it’s not  _ like _ that.”

Armin smirked at him. “Okay.” He said, voice high and sing-songy — little Slytherin fuck. “If you say so.” And with that, he turned his focus back to his Transfiguration assignment. 

When Eren chanced a glance over at Jean again, to his amazement, Jean was already looking his way, but quickly turned around and stared at his stick figures when he noticed Eren had seen him. 

_ ‘Holy fuck _ —’ Eren started to think, but then Jean let out a scandalized gasp, bucking off of Marco’s back to grip at his paper, as a few stick figures just…  _ left _ . Like, walked into back stage or something. Marco quickly turned to ask what happened, when Armin gave an indignant cry of his own, and Eren realized with a laugh that two of Jean’s stick figures were now fucking around on Armin’s homework, swinging on blank lines, rearranging letters of text and even Armin’s cursive handwriting. 

Eren continued laughing as Jean rushed over, apologizing profusely, and immediately began erasing the figures from Armin’s paper as they quickly ducked and dived away from the pink rubber that spelled their doom. Finally, after jumbling around even more of Armin’s (now slightly ripped and torn from panicked erasing) homework, the stick people were completely erased, and Jean quickly crumpled up his scrap paper which held two more, shocked stick figures, and threw it in recycling, still apologizing to Armin. 

“It’s fine, really, I’ll just explain what happened and get another. It’s not your fault.” Armin was saying as Eren wheezed loudly for air next to them. Marco, now lying on the window sill and clutching his stomach, was laughing so hard he couldn’t make sound anymore. Almost all pairs of eyes in the room were staring at them now, and a good number of them were snickering under their breath at the spectacle. 

Jean turned around towards the window sill and put his hands on his hips. “Fat load of help you guys were.” Jean teased, indicating both Eren and Marco. 

Marco tried to apologize, but found that he couldn’t, and desperately gasped for air through more laughter. Eren was doing a slightly better job of gaining oxygen, and stuttered out, “No— Not sorry— he— he— hehehehe—”

Suddenly, a loud clap came from the doorway of the room, causing all the students to jump. Nanaba, looking tired, called out. “Alright, everyone! It’s time to head back to your dorm rooms, please! You can stay up as late as you want during your breaks, but for now, it’s bedtime!”

Some people groaned — Marco and Eren finally caught their breaths — but reluctantly started getting to their stiff legs. Jean apologized to Armin one more time, Armin brushing him off with a smile before heading towards the door, wishing Eren, Marco, and Jean a good night. Eren moved to gather his Charms packet and pen. As people began trekking out of the room, he noticed Jean was hanging back a little, telling Marco to go on without him. Was he waiting for someone? Was he— was he waiting for  _ Eren _ ?

Eren rose from his chair with his packet and pen clutched in between the fingers of one hand, and pushed his chair in with the other, giving Jean a confused look of inquiry. The last person exited the room, Nanaba having left immediately after her announcement, leaving Jean and Eren standing alone in the now-barren study hall. 

“Jean?” Eren asked, scratching behind one ear with his free hand awkwardly. “Is there something you want?”

The only things Jean was holding were his textbook in one hand, and his corked ink pot, and quill pen in the other. He shook the ink pot a little, nervously glancing to the side. “I uh…” He inhaled, and Eren took a few steps to stand in front of the blonde. 

Jean coughed a little. “Ah, what the hell… you know how— how I haven’t… come out to my mom, yeah?” He apprehensively forced himself to make eye contact with Eren. “Well… I’m gonna. During break. And… and I don’t know how she’ll react— I still haven’t brought it up yet— and— and in the scenario where she doesn’t… you know… or I get kicked out or—”

“ _ Kicked out? _ ” Eren squawks. “Jean, I  _ really _ don’t think she’s like that—”

“I don’t think so either, but I don’t  _ know _ , alright? I just… I just want to be prepared for the worst.”

Eren heaves a big, unhappy sigh. “And…  _ in _ this worst case scenario…?”

Jean’s whiskey eyes flit back and forth between Eren’s face and some space of wall over his shoulder. He takes another deep inhale. “I already asked Marco’s family, but they have kids coming out of the windows, so… if I get— get kicked out,” Jean’s voice cracks a little. “Could I stay with you? N-Not forever! Just until…”

He’s shuffling his feet around and kicking at the wooden floor, and that’s when Eren realizes— Jean’s terrified. He doesn’t have the fluid communication Eren has with his own parents, he’s probably heard a million other coming-out stories that went less-than-spectacular, and he’s scared out of his mind. Reluctantly, Eren says of course, his parents would take him in a heartbeat, just to give Jean some ounce of security. And Jean looks so  _ relieved _ but still so  _ miserable _ , nodding and blinking rapidly as he looks to the side again, Eren almost grabs him in a hug, but doesn’t, knowing Jean hates hugs. 

“Thank you… a lot…” Jean whispers. Eren figures he’ll accept a firm pat on the arm at least, and smiles crookedly at him. “Any time.”

“Could you… come with me?” 

Eren pauses, letting his hand rest on Jean’s bicep. “Like, be there when you come out? Absolutely, let me just tell my parents tonight, okay?”

“Okay.” Jean nods, looking just a little bit more confident. “Thanks again. Really.”

_____

_____

 

Eren realizes, in all the years he’s known Jean, he’s never ever seen or been to his house. Which is incredibly unfair, he thinks, considering Jean’s been over to  _ his _ house. Once, granted, but it still counts. 

On the train ride back to platform 9 ¾, Jean and Marco joined their usual group in one cabin and laughed along with their antics, all of their pets only adding to the chatter. Kofi and Potato croaked at each other, Lion shyly curled up in Mikasa’s lap, Marco’s Spotted Owl named Louise Pancake Bodt (Marco let his siblings name him) was chittering from inside his cage, Armin expressed great excitement to see Bugg again, and Amina and Thornbeak hooted and cawed at each other from their cages the whole ride. 

Despite already knowing and approving of Eren spending half of the break at Jean’s, Eren’s parents still made an appearance at the train station to hug him and talk a little bit with Ms. Kirschtein before their “sweet baby boy” would be leaving for Trost — a city they had only really visited a few times, and mostly just because Grisha had a patient there. 

Jean called shotgun before Eren even realized he’d be riding in their car — their  _ flying, invisible car _ that looked like it hopped straight out of the 1920s — and practically threw himself into the pale blonde, leather passenger’s seat after stowing his stuff away in the trunk. Eren dazedly did the same, though he  _ gingerly _ sat down in the back, and then Ms. Kirschtein gleefully called out, “Buckle up, now!” before turning the ignition key and pulling some lever and suddenly Eren was looking down at the snow-covered train station and his waving parents. Amina screeched in immediate distaste of this new experience; even if she was confined to her cage and couldn’t see outside the window much, she most certainly could feel the lift of the car and knew from experience that cars were  _ not _ supposed to do that. Thornbeak cooed at her soothingly as their cages rattled against one another.

Suddenly, a blue and purple sheen swept over Eren’s view of the window and went away just as fast, and he knew they must now be unseeable to the human eye — invisible. 

Eren watched the skeletons of trees and barren, white fields below for a while before they eventually turned into streets flying by, as well as tiny dots of people and even a few dogs. Trost itself was exactly as Eren remembered it from the last time he’d been there — on the cleaner side for a city but still had its grimy areas — and was heavily populated with higher-class muggles and wizards alike. It wasn’t necessarily a rich people’s city, but it  _ was _ a bit more expensive than Eren’s more rural hometown of Shiganshina. 

Finally, the green car slowed down to hover over one house at the end of a street, and looking down, Eren noticed it had its own little designated area behind the sidewalk for a car, as did every other abode visible on the block. All little designated areas were paved with brick a soft red color, and ploughed free of snow. This street also didn’t seem to have anyone on it at that exact moment, which meant Ms. Kirschtein could make them visible once again immediately after safely landing. 

“Alright,” She said, turning the engine off and sparing a glance over her shoulder at a very awed teenager pressed up against the chilly window. “Welcome to Trost, Eren!” 

“And also our driveway.” Jean looked over as well and laughed a little. “Stop drooling and come on.” With that, he opened his door, letting in a cold rush of air, and stepped out onto the red brick. He grabbed Thornbeak from the backseat, then strode around to the trunk as his mother exited the vehicle too. Eren quickly rushed to comply, hooking two fingers into the loop on top of Amina’s cage, then grabbing his giant, cherry red, rolling suitcase from the trunk with the other. The three of them strolled over to the small, four-step flight of stairs leading up to the door, where Ms. Kirschtein began fumbling with a ring of keys to unlock it. Amina and Thornbeak trilled and twittered at each other from their bird cages. 

Like every other residence on this street, their house was taller than it was wide (three stories), and probably didn’t have a basement, like Eren’s house did. The whole building was constructed with salmon and yellow brick, and had little, artistic archways crowning the narrow windows and single doorway. 

At that moment, Jean leaned over to Eren, looking a little sheepish and red-faced, and quickly whispered, “Just promise you won’t laugh, okay?”

Eren’s eyebrows furrowed. “Laugh? Laugh at a what?”

Just then, Ms. Kirschtein unlocked the door with a small, triumphant huff, opened it, and sauntered on in. Immediately after Eren crossed the threshold of their home and into a baby blue entrance hallway, he noticed that their house  _ did _ in fact smell like bread, but that wasn’t his main focus. There was a staircase against one wall, and on the other — Eren let go of his suitcase to press the back of his knuckles against his grin — was an eye-level line of rectangular photo frames, all containing moving pictures of a baby Jean. 

“I  _ said _ don’t laugh!” Jean snapped, face and nose red as he kicked the door shut behind him and roughly began unbuttoning his coat. Ms. Kirschtein had left through some other doorway down the hall, so she wasn’t there to hear them bicker. 

Eren didn’t answer, but let Amina’s cage gently drop to the floor as well so he could step closer to the photos. 

“Don’t—” Jean started to bark, but Eren cut him off by pointing at the first photograph and asking, “Who’s this girl?”

The photo in question contained a little girl who looked around two, with short, wavy hair the same color as Jean’s tawny mop, wearing a little blue headband and a puffy dress of the same color. She was sitting down with a baby (who was undoubtedly Jean, and couldn’t’ve been more than a few months old, if the tiny tufts of straw-colored hair on the top of his head were anything to go by) in between her legs, leaning back against her chest with her arms wrapped around him. Baby Jean was dolled up just as fancy, in a little dress shirt and pants and shoes. The girl was beaming into the camera, ecstatic to be holding the baby, while Jean had that telltale baby pout on and was staring blankly off to the side. 

“Oh, that— that’s my cousin Hitch.” Jean mumbled, now standing behind Eren in his yellow Hufflepuff sweater. “She’s a fucking nuisance.”

Eren raised his eyebrows at the picture. “ _ Is _ she now?”

Just then, baby Jean’s face contorted into one of such blatant displeasure — he looked  _ so _ much like Jean now — and he jerkily threw his chubby little arms up and then slouched down, out of Hitch’s hold, successfully rucking up his dress shirt a bit. Her mouth opened in what must’ve been a frustrated cry — though these pictures didn’t make noise — and she tried to pull Jean into sitting up again. 

Eren chuckled at the sight, then asked, “How come I’ve never seen her at Hogwarts?”

“She goes to Beauxbatons.” Jean supplied, then went on to explain, moving his hands around to emphasize, “Even though she’s two years older than me, she’s in her sixth year because she got held back in first year for fighting.”

Eren raised his eyebrows. “Wow. How come  _ we _ never got held back?”

Jean shrugged. “They’re stricter, I guess.”

Eren stepped to the side to view the next one. 

“Eren, are you  _ seriously _ gonna look at all of them!?”

He grinned. “Yes, you fool!”

“Dumbfuck, you haven’t even taken your coat off!”

Eren’s hands blindly found the coat zipper around his neck and pulled it all the way down. “Alright, alright, Jesus,” He smiled toothily and shrugged it off before chucking it on top of a crowded coat rack, toeing off his shoes and placing them alongside Jean’s on a little shoe shelf, then returning to the second photo. 

“Are you fucking kiddi—”

This time Jean gets cut off by Eren’s laughter, for the second photo appears to be a continuation of the first one, in which Hitch has dragged Jean into sitting up once again, only for baby Jean’s eyes to scrunch up, take a big inhale, and then sneeze. Immediately, Hitch’s blue dress and headband become a splatter-of-every-color-ever-discovered dress and headband, causing the Hitch in the photo to make a face of unprecedented shock, while baby Jean notices and begins giggling uncontrollably. 

The teenager Jean can’t help but snicker as well; he actually likes that one. 

“What a sadistic little shit you were…” Eren says almost under his breath, then moves to the next one, Jean following. 

This one seems to be from some sort of family gathering a couple months earlier than when the first two were taken. In it, another dolled-up baby Jean (though in a different outfit) with even shorter hair is being held in his mother’s arms, with one fist balled against her shoulder, and his upper body twisted around to see the person she is facing. It looks like an older man, possibly his grandpa, who his gently grinning down at Jean. Ms. Kirschtein moves her arms from under Jean’s bottom to his armpits so that she can hand him over to, presumably, her father, but Jean makes a stern, unhappy face and pushes his hands away, causing both adults to let out inaudible barks of laughter. As Ms. Kirschtein returns Jean to her shoulder, he nuzzles into it, still glaring at his grandpa.

“You’re like a less-giggly Gavin…” Eren muses, oblivious to the look of utter confusion Jean makes behind him. 

“Who’s Gavin?”

Eren waves him off and steps over to the fourth picture frame. “Just some kid on vine, before it got shut down.”

“ ‘On vine’?”

“Oh, nevermind.”

The fourth photo is of Hitch and Jean again, though this time Jean looks around one (still in diapers) and Hitch, three, both in more everyday clothes. They're on a carpeted, indoor, five-step flight of stairs. Jean is crawling around on the top of them while Hitch is sitting near him with her legs strewn down over the steps. Suddenly, she gets up and runs down the stairs, exiting the camera’s view, and Jean makes to follow her lead, only, he stumbles over his own feet and ends up rolling down the entire flight, causing Eren to lean back from the wall a little and cackle loudly. 

“So you _ did _ hit your head as a child!” He smart-mouths, earning a  _ whack _ to the arm and a, “Oh, piss off!” From Jean, despite grinning himself.

The fifth picture is quite obviously a family photo, and the first thought to strike Eren is how much smaller Jean’s family is compared to his own army of cousins. He recognizes Ms. Kirschtein, who is holding tight to a furiously squirming toddler (Jean), as well as a slightly-older Hitch standing next to them and fawning over Jean rather than looking at the camera. Behind Hitch are a man and woman who must be her parents (the man is probably Ms. Kirschtein’s brother, given that they bear a similar, strong-jawed resemblance). There’s one other couple to the other side of Ms. Kirschtein who don’t appear to have any children, and in the back are an older man and woman who are quite obviously Jean’s grandparents.

Eren points at the single couple who don’t appear to have any children and asks which one is Ms. Kirschtein’s sibling. 

Jean leans forward to squint at who Eren is referring to. “Oh, Uncle Leon’s her younger brother. His wife’s Aunt Claudette. They never wanted kids.”

Eren hums and nods, and for the millionth time since he’s found out Jean lives with a single parent, wonders if it would be offensive for him to ask what happened to Jean’s father.  _ ‘Fuck it. It’s now or never, I guess. Or somethin’.’ _

Eren turns to face Jean, who jumps a little at suddenly being looked in the eye. “Hey… Jean?”

“Yeah?” He questions, a little cautionary. 

Eren stays quiet for a second, piecing together words in his mind. “What… what happened to your father?”

Jean looks surprised for a second, and Eren worries he’s about to be thrown out the front door, then Jean’s expression hardens as his amber eyes flit to the photo before them. “ _ That _ bastard left the second he heard maman was pregnant with me. He’s not my father.” He spits, crossing his arms.

“... Ah.” Eren replies lamely, and they stay quiet for a few seconds, looking anywhere but at each other. “Sorry I brought it up.”

Jean snaps out of it and blinks down at Eren, unfurling one hand from his chest to wave at him. “Oh, no, no, it’s fine— really.” 

Eren looks back at their family photo, and studies Ms. Kirschtein’s expression closer. She doesn’t look like a crushed woman who is holding the newborn reason a man left her, but instead she looks like a proud, strong woman who is holding something she’ll love and care about much more than she ever will a shitty, asshole of a man, and Eren finds himself greatly admiring her in that moment. 

“This picture looks better without him anyway.” He says to Jean. “ ‘Was probably butt-ugly.”

Jean makes a weird face, like he’s holding back a laugh. “He looked like me!”

“Yeah, well you’re butt-ugly too. That’s why you’re not facing the camera.” Eren jokes, pointing at the back of toddler Jean’s head. 

Jean laughs despite himself. “Go fuck yourself, Jaeger!”

Suddenly, Ms. Kirschtein calls from whatever room she’s escaped to. “Language, Jean! That doesn’t sound like the polite and humble host I’ve raised you to be!”

“Sorry maman!” Jean shouts back, blushing a little. Eren starts snickering under his breath, as Jean leans towards the doorway at the end of the hall and continues yelling. “What’re you  _ doing _ , though? You didn’t even take off your coat!”

Amina and Thornbeak grumble from their cages, irritated by the noise. 

“I had a pie going before I left!” Ms. Kirschtein replies, causing Jean to start shaking his head. “My coat’s on the table; I’ll put it away later!”

Jean returns to Eren, who takes takes the last step to stand in front of the sixth and final picture frame while informing Jean that his mom’s pies are “the fuckin’ best, though.”

Jean raises an eyebrow at him. “You’ve only ever had one.”

“But am I wrong?” Eren sasses back, then turns to inspect the last photo.

Instantly, this one strikes him as different from the rest, as there isn’t a whole lot of noticeable movement at first. This one is from the day Jean was born. In it, Ms. Kirschtein is sitting up in a bed (it doesn’t look like a white hospital bed, but instead a normal, home bed. This makes sense that witches would give birth at home with a midwife present, given their magical medical advancement) with wiry, sweaty hair, and a little bundle of white blankets loosely held in her arms. She, and the tiny, capped face poking out from the bundle of blankets are fast asleep. The only thing in the picture that lets Eren know it’s moving, is Ms. Kirschtein’s exhausted breathing. Eren finds himself really, really liking this photo.

“Alright,” Jean cuts in, grabbing Eren’s arm, just above his elbow. “Enough, let’s go let our owls out.”

Eren smiles to himself, knowing Jean’s embarrassed and probably red-faced, but spares him the discomfort and follows him. He cracks a joke, just because he can. 

“And just think: elsewhere in the world at that time, there’s a week-old me, just waiting to punch your face in.”

Jean snorts, caught off-guard. “Meant to be.” He replies with a chuckle, picking up Thornbeak’s cage and his trunk. 

Eren grabs the handle of his suitcase and loops his fingers through Amina’s cage, then starts hauling them up the stairs after Jean. 

Jean’s room was on the very top floor, along with a guest room and a bathroom. Standing in the hallway between the doorways to both bedrooms, Jean stated that they’d both unpack first and let their owls out, then Jean would give him a proper tour of the house. Eren agreed, then they split ways into their rooms and got to it. 

_____

_____

 

Jean’s room was painted dark blue, and had a window facing out towards the street. There was a bookshelf, a dresser, a green and black plaid-blanketed bed, and a desk that was covered in paper, paint splatters and graphite stains. There were posters of famous quidditch players (one big one of Dev Sahil that, when viewed at a certain angle that caught the sun’s glint, revealed a few suspiciously lip-shaped marks over the quidditch player’s own toothy smile) as well as several drawings pinned up along the walls, and Eren spent a solid chunk of time just walking around slowly and viewing them all, much to Jean’s awkward embarrassment as this was only a repeat of what they’d been doing down in the front hall.

Jean had some messy, pencil sketched portraits of his mom, family members, and a few of Marco, but surprisingly, none of himself. It was incredibly strange and surreal to see faces of people Eren knew moving as choppy lines of graphite, that was for sure. There were more doodly drawings of cats and Thornbeak (which meowed and hooted), of dragons and mermaids and mermen (which roared and croaked and clicked), and a couple blotchy, rough sketches of people playing Quidditch. 

“These are… really good.” Eren murmured in awe, currently staring at one of the darker-skinned merman ones and pondering  _ how the hell _ he managed to make a pencil sketch of scales and hair and skin look like they were suspended in water, and reflecting the sun’s rays fracturing through the surface. The design for the tail itself was different than the simple Ariel tail Eren was used to seeing. It looked like a betta fish, in a way, with large, flowy, wrinkly fins protruding from the back and the sides and the tail. The fins themself were probably bigger than the actual meat of the tail itself. 

Jean positively  _ beamed _ , which was a rare expression on his face and nearly caused Eren to fall over. 

“Thanks.” 

He was much more eager to talk about his drawings than he was his baby photos, Eren noticed, as Jean started explaining how this wasn’t what the mermaids in the Black Lake looked like, but it was a look he’d heard about in Mediterranean mermaids and other merpeople who lived in warmer temperatures. 

Eren encouraged this newfound passionate talk by asking more questions about the mermaid ones, and (even though he didn’t care about technique) how he went about drawing and shading them. Soon enough, the sun had set, as it did earlier in winter, and the smell of  _ something good _ for dinner was wafting up the stairs. Jean had been ranting about how this one time he was drawing someone (he refused to say who), when a sweatdrop had fallen from his face and onto the paper, but upon going to wipe it off, he’d smudged the picture even further. 

Suddenly, Ms. Kirschtein was shouting up the stairs and calling them down to eat. Jean’s expression quickly changed to one of hesitant apprehension, as he stared at his bedroom doorway. Eren knew he was thinking about coming out at dinner, but he really, really didn’t think it was going to go as bad as Jean was envisioning. He put a reassuring hand on Jean’s shoulder.

“Honestly, Jean,” He started, trying to get the tawny-haired boy to meet his eyes, but failing. “I  _ truly _ believe it’s not going to go like you think it will.”

“Yeah, you believe that because you’re a stupid optimist.” Jean spat, out of frustration and nerves more than actual anger at Eren. “I’m just seeing it realistically.”

Eren finally grabbed Jean’s face and forced him to look at him, his thumb and forefinger digging into his cheeks a little. He was  _ going _ to say something tough-loving and motivating, but the sight of Jean’s lips squished together in his hand set him off laughing. Jean rolled his eyes and pulled Eren’s hand off of his face. “Alright, alright, very fucking funny. Let’s just go eat, you ass.”

They clambered down the two flight of stairs, Eren still giggling all the way, earning a light slap to the leg in the hallway where Ms. Kirschtein couldn’t see them, then they entered into the other room that held the kitchen and their dining room table. Ms. Kirschtein was already sitting on one of the longer sides of the ovular table, and beckoned them the come over and sit already. Eren and Jean pulled out the two chairs across from her, as she began saying, “It’s not Christmas dinner, so I didn’t go  _ all _ out, but I’m still very proud of how the pie turned out, so I expect empty plates before I bring it in!”

Evidently, she’d made strips of chicken grilled in herbs as well as homemade fries, or “Poulet-frites” as she and Jean were calling it. Either way, Eren didn't have any problem chowing down, as Amina and Thornbeak clambered around the Kirschtein Christmas tree over in the living room. Between bites of chicken and fried potato, the three made light conversation about local activities they could do while Eren stayed the week, but Eren could sense Jean’s growing seclusion from what he’d soon have to tell his mother. He glanced through his bangs at Jean quietly chewing a fry.

“Oh! Would you look at that!” Ms. Kirschtein cried, head turned to look out the kitchen window. It had started snowing outside, the streetlight casting orange hues into the blue night as small snowflakes lightly fluttered down from the sky. “Hopefully I won’t have to dig the car out…”

Eren put his knife and fork down on his plate with a  _ clink _ , having finished. He peeped over at Jean again, who was also done and clearly mustering himself up for what was to happen next. 

“Maman?”

“Yes, Jeanbo?” Jean froze and his eyes widened a little, then he took a gander over at Eren. 

_ Oh? _ Eren felt himself grin a little at the pet name, which was entirely new to his ears. 

Ms. Kirschtein scoffed a little. “Oh, please, Jean, there’s no need to freak out. I’m sure Carla has some sort of ‘embarrassing name’,” She made finger quotes. “For Eren too, yes?”

Eren smiled toothily over the rim of his glass. “I will neither confirm, nor deny that.” He took a sip of his apple juice. 

Ms. Kirschtein continued. “Well, anyway, what were you about to say, Jean?”

Jean’s chest inflated a little as he took a breath. “Yeah, um… that. There’s… something important I need to tell you.”

His mother’s eyes softened and she folded her hands on the table. “What is it? You didn’t do something illegal, did you?” She joked.

“What? No, no, I didn’t. I… I don’t— I want— shit—” Eren saw Ms. Kirschtein raise an eyebrow at the curse, but say nothing, as she could probably understand that this was hard for Jean to get out, whatever it was. Eren lifted his glass to his lips for another, tentative sip, just for something to do with his hands. 

“I’m just gonna say it, okay? I—” He paused. “I’m… bi. Sexual. Bisexual. Bi.”

He and Eren both held their breath, awaiting his mother’s response to that. They watched as she moved her laced fingers from off the table to tap against her round chin. She blinked a little at Jean— out of shock? 

She opened her mouth, but stayed silent for a moment. Her expression changed to… amused confusion? She finally spoke.

“O… Okay?” She chuckled a little. “Jeanbo, this isn’t news. I’m your  _ mother _ , I’ve known for years. I’m bisexual too.”

Jean’s jaw dropped, and Eren inhaled his juice out of surprise, quickly leaning away from the table so he could cough and laugh and then cough some more because  _ holy shit _ . Ms. Kirschtein looked back and forth between Eren dying over the side of her dining table to her son. 

“I thought…” Jean began to whisper, then shouted out, “Wait,  _ you’re _ bi  _ too!? _ ”

His mother nodded, laughing a little. “Why, yes, absolutely! Our whole family is, as a matter of fact.”

“Wha—!?” Jean sputtered. “Aunt Adrienne and Uncle Louis?”

“Yes!”

“Aunt Claudette and Uncle Leon?”

“Mhmm!”

“Grandma and Grandpa?”

“Jean,  _ yes _ —”

“ _ Hitch!? _ ”

“Well, hopefully she hasn’t had sex yet, but yes.”

Eren started cough-laughing even harder. Jean gawked as his mother went on. “As for me, I’ve been turning down the girl in that flower shop for  _ months _ now! She’s young enough to be my  _ daughter _ , had I had children earlier, which is frankly, just plain  _ gross _ ; I don’t know  _ what _ is going through that girl’s head, but— Oh!”

The chair scrapped along the floor as Jean lept from it to hug his mother, burying his face into her black-sweatered shoulder to hide the fact that he was tearing up. She chuckled quietly and wrapped her arms around his slender torso. Softly, she asked, “What, did you think I wouldn’t approve?”

“I didn’t know so I just… assumed the worst.” Jean admitted, voice small and a little muffled from being mashed into her shoulder. 

His mother hummed and moved a hand to the back of his head, beginning to comb her fingers through his hair soothingly. “I suppose that is something we’ll have to work on, then. Talking more.”

Jean only nodded, adjusting his knees a little from where he was kneeling next to her chair. He inhaled shakily, fighting down the watery eyes. She continued, “Well, now that it’s out, I want you to know that no matter what, I’ll always love you, mon chou.” She planted a kiss into his flaxen locks, and he hummed in contentment.

Eren straightened himself in his seat, having finally recovered, and put his almost-empty glass on the table. “Does… doesn’t that mean ‘cabbage’, or something? Did you just call him your cabbage?”

Ms. Kirschtein smiled over Jean’s head and lifted her arms to talk with them. “On its own, yes, but with the ‘mon’ it means ‘sweetie’.” 

At last, Jean let go of his mother and stood up, digging a thumb into the corner of one eye to wipe away the stray tear that  _ almost _ managed to fall. “Didn’t know you knew French, Jaeger.” He rasped with a light grin, voice a little scratchy. He cleared his throat.

Eren crossed his arms and grinned, leaning back in his chair so that it stood on the two hind legs. “I don't. Just ‘chou’. And also, I told you.” He said, referring to Jean’s coming out going much better than he’d expected.

Jean smiled broadly. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Aye!” Ms. Kirschtein swat her son’s butt with the back of her hand, pulling a little yelp out of him. “Language!”

Jean grumbled poutily and shuffled over to his seat once again. Eren, still precariously balanced on the back legs of his chair, quipped, “So… your whole family?”

Jean laughed a little and ran a hand through his hair. “I— I guess so. Wow.”

“ ‘Cuz that’s fucking  _ hilarious _ .”

“ _ Hey _ ,” Ms. Kirschtein cut in, arms crossed over her chest. She shot a sly smile at Eren. “Don’t think I won’t reprimand you too. Besides, Jean, I’m assuming you wanted to tell me this because Eren is your boyfriend, correct? Shouldn’t you be trying to make a good impression on me, then?”

Both boys immediately straightened up, Eren’s chair legs slamming back onto the floor loudly as they both sternly cried, “No!”

“He’s not my boyfriend!”   
“I’m not his boyfriend!”

To both of their frustration, Ms. Kirschtein only rose a single, disbelieving eyebrow. However, before either of them could continue ranting and raving about how  _ not in a relationship _ they were, a  _ BU-BANG _ of several keys from the lower-octave region of a piano resonated from the living room, causing all three of them to jump in surprise.

Ms. Kirschtein squinted at Jean. “Thornbeak isn’t heavy enough to press down on the keys…”

Eren grimaced and rose from his seat. “ ‘S probably mine. Amina!”

“I’ll get the pie, then, while you deal with the girls.” Ms. Kirschtein proclaimed, getting up and beginning to clear her plate. 

Eren lightly jogged through the living room doorway as a few more bass-level notes boomed through the walls. Sure enough, both his and Jean’s owls were standing on the piano keys, although Amina was the one weighing down on the lower end of the large instrument while Thornbeak stood on the keys next to her, appearing to not weigh a thing. The two birds looked up at him with wide, much-more-innocent-than-they-had-any-right-to-be eyes as he approached, Jean entering behind him and laughing a little at the sight. 

“Alright, you two, enough.” Eren smirked, reaching out to scratch the top of Amina’s head. She closed her eyes and let out a happy purr. Coming up next to him, Jean stuck out the side of his hand for Thornbeak to hop onto.

“Aren’t you afraid her talons ‘re gonna tear your hand?” Eren asked, motioning for Amina to get off the keys. She flapped her big wings and flew up a little, only to land on the top of the piano. Eren tsked.

“Nah, these things’ll only make a little scratch, at best.”

Eren watched as Jean looked between the two owls, then experimentally started walking away with Thornbeak and back towards the (not yet decorated) Christmas tree, seeing if Amina would follow. With a screech of displeasure aimed at Jean, she did. Amina speedily flew down from the piano and onto the rugged-floor by Jean’s socked feet, cawing up at him to give her back her girlfriend. Eren laughed as Jean nudged Thornbeak off his hand, and she glided down to the floor. The two owls nuzzled heads affectionately.

“Get a room.” Jean snickered, walking back over to Eren. They momentarily made eye contact, then looked away. What was there to talk about now? 

Thankfully, just before things could reach the unbearable state of awkward, Ms. Kirschtein came to the rescue by calling them back to the table for dessert. Upon sitting down again, Eren felt his jaw dislodge and drop to the floor because  _ this woman _ had made a pie crust even more intricate and gorgeous than the last one he’d seen. And although they were two people short to finish the pie in one go, it was safe to say that it was immensely enjoyed. 

_____

_____

 

After dessert, Jean and Eren had gone back up into their rooms to get changed for bed. The guest bedroom had cream-colored wallpaper, and was rather well-kept. The single bed had a mint-green quilt and comfortable, downy pillows, which was nice. 

Eren had already unpacked all his clothing from his cherry red suitcase  — which was propped up next to the mahogany dresser, as well as Amina’s cage  — and so, gotten into his sleepwear rather quickly. He was, as per usual, going to sleep in only a pair of orange boxer briefs (neon, obviously), but had half the decency to put on a white t-shirt for the time being. He crossed the hall and yelled through the door, “Coming in!”

“ _ Waitwaitwaitwaitwait _ _ — _ ”

Eren swung open the door and strolled inside to find a wide-eyed Jean over by his dresser with the top drawer open, in an olive green t-shirt of his own, and a pair of soft black boxer briefs with little white skulls on them hugging his lean thighs. 

“ _ Oh my _ —” Eren had to clap a hand over his mouth to stop the laughter from spilling out, because  _ fucking wow,  _ Jean. Little skulls? That was, admittedly,  _ unbearably _ cute.

With his face an alarming shade of red, Jean briskly snatched his pillow up from his bed and ran the two strides it took to cross his room (especially with his long legs) to beat Eren over the head with it. “Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyou  _ so much, Eren! I said WAIT!! _ ”

Laughing, Eren ducked his head and tried to blindly block Jean’s pillow-whacking with his hands, to no success. He could tell his hair would be sticking straight up after this from the static. 

“ _ Stop laughing, you cockhole! _ ”

Still bowed and cackling under Jean’s pillow assault, Eren shoved forward and hugged his arms around Jean’s thighs ( _ oh god, I'm actually  _ touching  _ his thighs! _ ) so that he could pick Jean up potato-sack style, ripping an unbridled screech from the taller boy. 

As Jean started to pummel Eren’s ass with the pillow upside-down, Eren ran back to Jean’s bed and clumsily crashed onto it with Jean, still chortling all the while. His head was pressed up against Jean’s stomach from carrying him, which also left Jean’s knees around his own abdomen.

“At least  _ my  _ underwear isn’t an eyesore!” Jean retaliated, ramming his knee up into Eren’s belly, not hard enough to  _ really _ damage, but still rough. It forced the air out of Eren’s mouth and he fell off Jean and curled up holding his stomach, allowing Jean to scramble onto his side and start trying to pin him still, although now both of them were sporting competitive smirks. 

“That so, stick-limbs?” Eren smart-assed, forcing Jean’s arms out of the way only for him weave them back in. 

“Uh-huh, dickbreath!” Jean sneered with a shark-like grin, now straddling Eren’s hips. They play-wrestled around for a bit, all  _ real _ anger and embarrassment replaced with fiery spirit and aggressive merit. Trying to finally derail Jean’s attempts to get him in a chokehold, Eren caught his hands in his own and threaded their sweaty fingers together, then sat up as they began to press their palms against each other, shoulder muscles bunching up. 

“Just give in, already!” Eren taunted. Sitting up had forced Jean to get off of his hips and into a kneeling position on the (now impeccably wrinkled) blanket as they shoved back and forth. Jean tried twisting their clasped hands so that their laced fingers faced the walls rather than the ceiling, changing the pressure and force. “Not a chance!”

However, Eren was the one who actually participated in a contact sport and somewhat had the muscle to prove it, so finally, he yanked both his hands back towards his left shoulder, pulling Jean forward with them. Jean made a noise of surprise, then an  _ oof _ as he was thrown onto his back and bounced a little on the mattress. Without wasting any time, Eren flopped diagonally on top of Jean’s body, and with a beam, shouted in his ear, “Haha! I win, loser!”

“What? No, no— I’m still—  _ fucking _ —” Jean began to protest, squirming and wiggling persistently under Eren’s weight, pushing and shoving at his shoulder, but ultimately failing to move him off. He huffed, and reluctantly gave in, letting his arms thump back onto his mattress. “Okay, fine, whatever. Still fuck you, though.”

Eren let out a smug little  _ hmph _ , before they morphed into a comfortable quiet. It didn't last too long, though, because Jean started to complain about how weird it felt to have Eren’s diaphragm expanding and deflating right up against his own as they breathed, even more so because they weren’t in synch, and so it was like one stomach pushing against the other for more room. Eren thought it felt kind of nice, but he’d more readily stick his hand in a blender before anyone would hear him admit that. Once they were both lying back against the bed — next to each other rather than on top of each other — they took the moment to properly catch their breaths from their roughhousing. 

Jean’s drawings were silent, and there was no hooting of owls or banging of piano keys. The room was dimly lit from the little table lamp on Jean’s desk that gave off a warm, orange glow.

Eren found himself thinking about the Hufflepuff common room, of all things. He knew it was located generally near the kitchens and was also underground, but not much more than that, because of house secrecy and all that. Students were allowed to tell each other what their rooms were  _ like _ (hence Armin’s constant geeking-out about watching both normal and magical aquatic life in the Black Lake from the Slytherin room), just not how to get  _ into _ them. Although, Eren  _ had _ heard a rumor regarding Hufflepuff’s room…

“Sooooo,” He started, causing Jean to jolt a little and his eyes to open once again. “I’ve heard that if someone non-Hufflepuff tries to get into the common room, they get drenched in vinegar?”

Jean’s face changed from sleepy confusion to that of a little smirk. “Something like that, yeah. Why, you planning on sneaking in? Stealing some house plants? The cactus Mylius sat on last week? That portrait of Helga that keeps going on a speech about how I should be proud to be a Hufflepuff every time I pass by it?”

Surprised by Jean’s sudden burst of chattiness, Eren burst out laughing. “Wh-  _ what? _ Oh my god— of course not, but  _ oh my god _ —” 

“For the record, I’ve accepted my fate as a Hufflepuff  _ long  _ ago, so the woman can just zip it.”

Up until this point, Eren thought the Hufflepuff common room was just all cozy and yellow and boring! All Mikasa had ever told him was a vague, bored description of the decor, and the only thing Connie’d ever commented on was how much he liked the patchwork quilts! This was brand, spankin’ new information that painted the Hufflepuff room in a whole, new color for Eren. 

“ _ Jesus Christ _ ,” Eren wheezed, holding his stomach as he curled on Jean’s blankets. “So  _ that’s _ why Mylius was absent all last week.”

“Eeeeeeyup.” Jean let the ‘p’ pop. “It’s also the only common room that hasn’t been seen by outsiders, I hear.”

“Yet.” Eren followed up, being exaggeratedly dramatic. That got a laugh out of Jean, and Eren felt proud, then continued. “But seriously, no  _ duh _ , there’s nothing to break in there for, like you said.”

Their chuckling quieted down again, and they were back to comfortable silence. Until Eren found his thoughts were wandering again. 

The scene from down at dinner kept replaying in his head: Ms. Kirschtein being so sure-fire and confident he was Jean’s boyfriend. I mean, from her perspective, it made perfect sense to assume such, but they  _ weren’t _ . Of course she’d tease a little, as all mothers and fathers and parents of the world do, but she’d respect them nonetheless. 

And really, Jean wasn’t even Eren’s  _ type _ . Did he have any fucking clue what his type was, you ask? No, but it couldn’t be  _ Jean _ . They were just close friends. Best friends? What was the difference anyway? Was he Marco-levels of close with Jean? Did  _ Eren _ consider Jean a close/best friend?

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a yawn — his own yawn. He shook a little at the height of it, and opened his eyes back up to see Jean chuckling a little. 

“What?”

“You yawn like a cat.”

Eren blinked in surprise. “Oh, thank—”

“No, I mean, like, your whole face splits open like some sort of demon. I could see your  _ uvula _ .”

Eren rolled onto his side to smack the side of Jean’s head. Nevermind, he actually wasn’t close friends with Jean at all, and this assfart with the totally-not-cute cackle was most  _ certainly _ not his type. 

Jean smiled and batted Eren’s hand away. “But seriously, I’m tired as hell. You should go back to your roo—”

_ Clink! Clatter! SMASH! _

All of a sudden, they both jumped when noises loudly rattled out from the direction of the bathroom down the hall. They were promptly followed by the hoots and chirps of some very entertained owls. 

Jean groaned, “That sounded like the toothbrush cup…”, while Eren moved to his feet with a grumble rising in volume. “Oh, for  _ fuck’s sake! _ ”

_____

_____

 

Eren’s week with the Kirschteins went by much too fast for his liking. During their time together, he’d helped them decorate their tree, spent copious amounts of time out in daylight walking around Trost with Jean (and decking each other with snowballs as they went), and, even though Christmas itself was happening during the week he would be home again, Eren had gotten Jean a present and had given it to him on the day he was due to leave. Right as he was leaving, actually, in the hallway, no less.

It was nothing huge or expensive, just an average, loopy-wired sketchbook. Eren had thought all the different kinds of paper options in the selection at the store was kind of pretentious, but then again, he didn’t really know what he was doing and just grabbed the best, normal-looking one he could find. No way he was asking the guy behind the counter for completely and totally unneeded help. Nuh-uh. 

Besides, if the surprised look of astonishment on Jean’s face when Eren handed him a tissue-paper stuffed bag and told him not to open it until Christmas was any indication, he was sure Jean was going to appreciate it nonetheless, and that was all he was gunning for, really. 

“W-well, I actually got you something too.” Jean had eventually stuttered out after a full thirty seconds of gawking at Eren’s present. “Thought I would be the only one and it would make this whole thing weird, but kinda really happy it’s not. Lemme — lemme go get it.”

Jean had then ran up the stairs with his bag, leaving Eren standing by the door in his fluorescent hat that Jean hated so, so much. That was a pleasant surprise for Eren as well; he thought he’d be the only one gifting anyone. 

When Jean had stumbled back down with his hands behind his back, Eren couldn’t find it in him to hide his excitement as Ms. Kirschtein stood off to the side with her arms comfortably crossed and the biggest smile on her face. 

“What is it? Can I unwrap it now? Come on, I—”

“It’s not exactly wrapped…” Jean took his hands from behind his back as he came off the last step, revealing a folded square of plain, old notebook paper in his hand. “I know this looks cheap and shitty—”

“ _ Jean. _ ”

“I know this looks cheap and tacky, but it’s a list of a bunch of maman’s pie recipes that I put together, and I thought you might wanna try baking them. Or something.” Jean explained, fumbling with the paper as he spoke. “You— you don’t have to, but, you know. Here.”

He stuck his arm out for Eren to take his present, and he did with a genuine smile. “Jean, this is great. I’ll make one on Christmas Eve and send you a picture. Really, I like it.”

Jean blinked, then grinned himself. “Ah, well. ‘Welcome.”

They were both blushing a little, though neither of them would admit that. Then Thornbeak started trying to pick the lock on Amina’s cage, so Ms. Kirschtein came in to teasingly tell them to not miss each other too much, before she and Eren strode out to their car so she could drive Eren back home.

Eren made good on his promise to bake one of Ms. Kirschtein’s pies on Christmas Eve, though he insisted on his parents not helping, so instead they watched over as he spilled flour, burned himself on the oven, and ate spare pieces of fruit. Eren’s crust design came out looking a little lumpy and crumbly, even with his magic involved, but he was too proud of himself to care, and took a selfie of himself with the pie and taped it onto his next letter to Jean. 

His response was a very amused ‘how come that pie is prettier than you’ comment with heavy undertones of ‘oh my god he actually made a pie, I’m swooning’, a ‘thank you’ for the sketchbook, and Eren’s most cherished bit which was now pinned on his wall: a messy pencil sketch of a merman Eren swimming through the ocean with big, flowy fins. 

_____

_____

 

It was also Reiner and Bertholdt's last year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. At the ceremony when Eren had talked to them and wished them good luck in their futures, Reiner had reminisced how it seemed so long ago that he was just a little first year falling into the Black Lake on the very first day. (Bertholt had frowned and said, “Reiner, you  _ jumped _ in.” To which the Gryffindor only waved him off with a flippant, “Same thing.”)

Eren caught glimpses of them on the train ride home after school was out. They were holding hands every time he saw them. At first, the thought that flashed through his mind was “Hah! I knew it!” before that temporary triumph turned into bitterness. Why bitterness, he wondered, but then realized not seconds later— he was bitterly  _ jealous _ . He wanted that… that comfortable hand-holding and easy silence with another person. 

That thought spooks him terribly, and for the whole train ride back home with his friends and Marco and Jean, he sits in uncharistic silence and plays it off as him being tired. Of course, as most teenagers are during long periods of travel, they are loud and jovial for the first twenty minutes before lapsing into the same sort of quiet Eren is in, and this makes him stand out less. All their pets (minus Bugg) are lulled to sleep by the smooth rumbling of the train rolling along, and Eren idly finds his gaze going from the English countryside to Amina and Thornbeak, who are out of their cages and tucked up against each other in between his left foot and Jean’s right. 

Yeah, he and Jean are sitting next to each other. That’s what friends do. Jean, perceptive little shit, had obviously known that Eren’s odd silence was clearly him being lost in thought, but didn’t bother him about it. Looking up from his and Jean’s owls on the floor (he’s actually jealous that their owls have it more together than he does), Eren realizes everyone else has fallen asleep, given that no one else is contemplating whether or not they might be ready for a love life. 

Suddenly, Jean’s head lolls onto his shoulder with the next bump of the train, causing Eren to stiffen in surprise. He waits a few seconds in case Jean was going to wake up and remove his head, but that never happens. Instead, Jean stays asleep, and even adjusts his head a little on Eren’s shoulder. 

His heart isn't thumping. His cheeks aren't hot. This is just what friends do. Friends have this sort of physical affection all the time. However, friends probably don't run the risk of heart attack from other friends doing this, so Eren might be a bit of an outlier.

Eventually, Eren somehow managed to fall asleep as well, leaning his own head on top of Jean’s. They both woke up to the rest if their friends laughing and wolf whistling at them, much to their embarrassment. Apparently Jean drools in his sleep too, so now Eren’s shoulder is wet and gross. He diverts the teasing from himself onto Jean, though Jean gets him right back for his snoring. 

One thing’s for sure: Eren’s gonna need all summer to think about… this, and sort out his feelings.


	6. Sixth Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lo siento this took months but here??? This chapter has actually been done for a while but it took ages for my friends to read it and give me feed back and I felt really icky about the ending for a while but heyyyyy here it is. 
> 
> Chapter 7 has been the one I'm MOST excited to write... but I don't wanna spoil anything so that's as much as I'll say. 
> 
> :D
> 
> Oh also, side note, my fucking ridiculous friend left funny little notes while she was reading this, so if the sentences start trailing off into "damn eren u a ho", just know that was here, and tell me in the comments where it is lmao

“Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu—”

Eren whined lowly, very carefully dragging a razor down his jaw. Combined with the pucker-lipped, wide-eyed face he was making and the shaving cream splattered all over the lower half of his face, Eren made a rather hilarious picture.

“Aaaauuuuuuuuuuuuggggggghhhhhhhh—”

He pulled his lower lip inward and over his teeth to make his chin smoother. Considering this was his first time shaving, he was doing much better than his mother predicted he would. He hasn't cut himself yet, but he's trudging along at a snail’s pace.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm—”

Now the upper lip. As funny as he looked, he was taking care to get every single spot of his face baby smooth, for his body hair had become a bit of a sore spot for him recently. His puberty was finally over, which was great and all, but it left him with his chest and abdomen covered in sparse, dark fuzz, as well as his arms, legs, and obviously, face. And he hated every, hideous inch of it.

Well, except for his eyebrows and the normal hair on his head. That, he’d let grow out, and was now long enough to be tied back into a small, low ponytail, so there was at least _that_ to feel hot about.

Eren knew there was some whole movement going on to “love yourself!” and “body hair is natural and beautiful!”, but he just couldn't see it in himself. He felt incredibly unattractive with all his body hair, and it was taking a bit of a toll on his esteem.

Clinking the cheap, plastic blue razor against the rim of the sink, he sighed at his now clean-shaven face in the mirror, save for some streaks of remaining cream. He wished it wasn't so easy to get hung up on stuff like this. Did he see pictures of models with body hair and think they were hot? Absolutely, but he felt he was far, far from that category. His hair wasn't a compliment to his looks, it was just a hindrance to everything. Wanna go to the beach? Rub some sunscreen into your chest hair first. Are there millions of spiders crawling up your calves? Nope, just your leg hair. Trying to maintain good hygiene? Have fun spending fifty-eight hours thoroughly cleaning your ass after every shit!

After tossing the razor in the trash, he leaned down and rinsed his face. His parents were dropping him off at the train station in a few hours, and he needed to be wearing a little more than a faded red towel with little fishies on it.

_____

_____

 

The train ride back from summer and into their sixth year at Hogwarts is relatively the same as usual, except for the wee bit of teasing Jean and Eren throw at each other about their last train ride together, when they fell asleep on each other.

Eren quickly notices that there's something different about Jean’s appearance, aside from his glaringly red complexion thanks to a sunburn he got at the beach. (Jean went with just Marco, so Eren has yet to see Jean shirtless and with low-riding trunks clinging to his sopping wet body so that every ridge and curve of his figure is visible… wait, _why_ would he want to see that?) The others all speak up about it too, but Jean, with this huge, sly smirk, plays coy. Marco giggles about it, obviously already knowing what it is that is different, and Mikasa and Armin appear to have already honed in on whatever it is, so it just leaves Eren, Sasha, and Connie to squawk and guess.

“‘F all it is, ‘s you got a trim, I'm smacking you.” Eren threatens, pointing a very intimidating finger at Jean’s blond mop.

Jean grins toothily. “ ‘S not that… besides, I’m pretty sure it’s _you_ who needs a trim.”

“Nu-uh, you have a thing for long dark hair, I’ve noticed the pattern!”

Jean rolls his eyes, and if it weren’t for his hilarious sunburn, Eren would be 100% sure he was blushing.

“Admit it!”

“Shut it, Jeager!” Jean shoves his shoulder a bit and Eren shoves back, as Connie, Sasha, and Marco ‘ooooooooo’, before getting back to guessing what was different about Jean.

“You… got taller?” Connie guesses.

“I wish, but no.”

“Thornbeak ate your wand and you got a new one!”

Everyone squints at Sasha, and Jean goes, “Why is it always about eating, with you?”

“A happy belly equals a happy life!” Sasha beams, flipping long, auburn strands of her ponytail over her shoulder.

“Is it… something with your teeth?” Connie suggests.

“Nope.”

“Come oooooooon!” Eren whines, throwing himself over Jean’s side to annoy him into spilling. “Tell uuuuuuuus!”

“Guys…” Armin jumps in, after a few minutes. He sounds exasperated. “He got his ears pierced.”

“OOOOOOOOOH!” Sasha and Connie shriek, quickly climbing all over the tall Hufflepuff to inspect the small, black plugs in his ear lobes. “Wow, Jean! Nice!”

“Lookit that!”

 _‘Fuck you, Jean.’_ Eren thinks, leaning back thanks to the incoming of tweedledee and tweedledum. _‘That’s really fucking hot, you cunt-basket.’_

“How big are you planning on going?” Connie prompts Jean, leaning heavily onto one of his shoulders. He’s in between Eren and Jean, but he’s not sitting there permanently, so Eren’s cool with it. Why wouldn’t he be cool with Connie sitting in between them?

“Not the super scary huge stuff you’re probably thinking of.” Jean jokes. “These are just a beginner size— 1.6 millimeters— so maybe only to around… 6 millimeters?”

He makes a ring with his thumb and pointer finger and then holds his hand up for everyone to see. Everyone except Mikasa and Marco raise their eyebrows.

“That’s gonna be painful…” Connie murmurs.

 _‘That’s gonna be hooooot.’_ Eren’s inner voice whines.

“It’s not _so_ big, and besides,” Jean explains, turning to consult Connie and Sasha’s worried expressions. “At best, it should only sting a bit during stretchings. You span it out over a long time, so don't worry.”

They both relax, and make little “oooh” faces. They all fill each other in on things they did over the summer, like stories of their pets and travels, and embarrassing moments that happened when they were actually hanging out as a group. The whole train ride, Eren can’t help but stare at the tiny plugs in Jean’s ears. He just thinks Jean’s hot _as a friend_ , he convinces himself. People don’t have to be attracted to someone to see that they’re good-looking. Which he thinks Jean definitely is. As a _friend_.

Eren discreetly unrolls his uniform sleeves so they cover his forearm hair.

_____

_____

 

“So you’re finally N.E.W.T. level students, eh?” Hange greeted all twenty-something students while walking around the large, underground dungeon during the first Potions class of the year. The obvious beginning of a monologue was clear in their voice. Moblit was sick in bed with a splitting headache, most likely actually a hangover that he was purposely labeling as something else to aid in the alcohol-free reputation he didn’t have. This left them all to the devices of Hange. “ _Excited_ for free periods and such?”

They stopped abruptly in front of where Eren was seated with his chair tilted back on hind legs. The professor was staring right at him through their thin-rimmed spectacles, so Eren shared an amused look with Jean (who was sitting next to him, as they hadn’t been assigned seats and instead eagerly chose to sit together), before engaging the professor.

“Yes, professor, I am very excited for those.” He responded robotically, struggling not to sound too sassy and entertained. Jean hacked up a suspiciously laugh-like cough, and Eren had to bite his lip from chuckling himself.

Suddenly, the professor slammed their hands down on his desk, causing him to lose balance in his precariously stilted chair and topple over backwards in surprise. The chair slid down as the back of his head hit the desk behind him, and he sharply cried out in pain.

“Well _don’t_ be!” Hange screeched, head jerking up to address the entirety of the shocked-shitless class. “This year will be one of the toughest ones yet! You’ll be using the majority of your ‘free periods’ to catch up on homework you’ve missed, and _oh_ , will you miss a lot of homework! Projects are harder, the lessons will be much, _much_ more demanding, and you will hate _every_ minute of it! So, I suggest you take that information into very serious consideration, and plan for the worst! Those who survive to the end will go on!”

Jean scrambled to help Eren up as the professor cackled and skipped off to the front of the classroom. As Eren grabbed Jean’s hand and was pulled to his feet ( _‘Oh my god, we're holding hands!’_ ), he adjusted his robes and brushed himself off. Jean fussed over the back of his head, which had apparently made a rather loud _klonk!_ on the desk behind him.

“Does it hurt? Are you bleeding? Do you— do you feel blood? Light-headed? Eren, what’s your name? Oh, wait, shit— I just said it—”

“ _Jean._ ” Eren cut in with a wide, amused, but humbled smile. “I’m _good._ ”

That wasn’t entirely true, but he wasn’t bleeding and he could see and remember things just fine, so it was worth telling the small lie to see Jean promptly turn the same shade as Rudolph’s nose once he realised he was fretting over Eren in front of the entire, still staring class. He stiffly, silently sat back down and trained his eyes on the boring, dark wood of the desk before him, as Eren lifted his chair back up before seating himself.

“Thanks for worrying about me, though.” Eren whispered, leaning a bit towards Jean, trying to ease the other boy’s nerves which were obviously going all levels of panicky haywire. “I’m honored.”

Jean didn’t answer, but did mumble a very quiet something that Eren didn’t catch.

“What?”

Jean mumbled again, and if he thought he was being louder, than he direly needed to get his ears checked. Maybe the piercings were doing something to him.

“Jean, I didn’t—”

“I said shut _up_.” Jean huffed, also whispering.

Eren snickered under his breath. “But that’s just Jean-talk for ‘you’re welcome’, riiiiight?”

A swift kick to the shin came from under their long table, and Eren dutifully kicked back. The class’ eyes had diverted back onto Hange, who had unfurled a gigantic piece of parchment that nearly hit the floor.

“This year’s Potions curriculum is quite packed.” Hange announced, before clearing their throat to read aloud. “The curriculum will consist of learning Golpalott's Third Law, Elixir to Induce Euphoria, Hiccoughing Solution, various poison antidotes, Everlasting Elixirs, Draught of the Living Death, Polyjuice Potion, Veritaserum, otherwise known as the truth serum, Felix Felicis, otherwise known as liquid luck, and Amortentia, which is the most powerful love potion in the world.”

Everyone shared awkward looks at the last one. There were a few known couples amongst the sixth years, and more than a bit of crush gossip going around, so this, no doubt highly dangerous potion that should by no means ever be tampered with by the likes of a teenager, would definitely pique the interest of many students. Eren, himself, found his gaze traveling to Jean, who had his cheek lazily resting in his hand on the table.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, _wait_ . _No._ This was _not_ happening.

 _‘Just friends!’_ Angel-on-one-shoulder Eren yelped as it flew over to slap the unsuspecting Devil-on-the-other-shoulder Eren in the face, breaking it’s stare away from Jean’s face.

“Ah, ah, ah! None of that!” Professor Hange bellowed, snapping two fingers together and causing the scroll to roll back up again and float itself into a nook of one of the many comfy little bookshelves in the classroom. “The Amortentia unit will be in February, as it is rather fitting. Liquid Luck is March. We’re starting off with Golpalott’s Third Law, so I’d better see some quills and parchment out!”

Eren needed to talk to Mikasa and Armin about his recent… surge of strange, Jean-centric thoughts. But he pushed that to the back of his mind and took notes alongside Jean, and idly wondered if it was crossing the friend-line to reach out and touch his hair.

_____

_____

 

“I need to talk to you guys about something.” Eren grasped the sleeves of both Armin’s and Mikasa’s robes during lunch.

They both turned, curious but attentive. Sasha and Connie were already enraptured in a meat pie eating competition, which had attracted a nice crowd of onlookers, so they'd be occupied.

“What’s wrong?” Armin asked, but Eren quickly began dragging the two of them out of the lunch room.

“Not here— come on.”

He was oblivious to Jean watching them leave, with a furrowed brow and unhappy scowl. Once they exited through the open double doors, Eren kept going, until the three found themselves in a cramped, dusty little broom closet.

“...Eren—”

“Mikasa, I know, I know, it's just— I wanted to be sure no one would hear.”

There was a small, cobweb-covered window at the back of the room with a few bottles perched on the ledge, so they weren't in complete darkness. Eren could see Armin’s blue eyes shone with concern.

“Did something happen?”

Eren paused, and fidgeted with some loose strands of hair that had fallen out of his ponytail. “I… sort of? I mean, it's… like— recently, I've noticed that…”

“Take your time.” Armin said again, as Mikasa listened quietly.

“I've had… a sudden… like, a lot of thoughts about— about Jean, but they're like—”

“Oh.”

Eren abruptly stopped talking to squint at Armin, who's worried expression had been replaced with a bored, deadpanned one.

“ ‘Oh’ what?” Eren snapped, quickly becoming defensive. “What, am I missing something?”

“Yeah, and you’re dense as fuck.”

Both he and Mikasa reeled back at Armin’s use of the expletive, as that was a ridiculously rare thing.

“You’re into him, Eren. Have been since like, last year.”

Eren couldn’t know what he looked like in that moment, but if he had to guess, he’d have said he looked like a dead fish, with his eyes wide open and his jaw unhinged. They were silent in that broom closet for a few minutes, before Eren mumbled.

“I… I think I am. Into— into him. I think.”

“You are.” Mikasa confirmed for him.

“I am?” Eren breathed.

“You _are_.”

“I _am_.” He then shouted, “HOLY SH—”

Mikasa quickly grabbed his head and smothered his mouth with her hand. “I thought you didn’t want anyone to hear us!?” She hissed at him.

He mumbled something into into her palm.

“You’re not gonna scream?”

He licked her palm, causing her to fling herself away from his mouth with a disgusted cry. But, he indeed didn't scream. There was yet again, another awkward silence about the broom closet, which was once again broken by Eren. “What do I do now?”

Mikasa looked to Armin, who only shrugged. “You can go about it however you want to, really.”

Eren grinned in response to this, opening his mouth to pose an elaborate, romantic scheme to perform for his newly discovered target of affections, only for that grin to rapidly melt away. Seeing this, Armin leaned in again. “What is it?” He spoke softly.

“... Nah.”

“What?” Mikasa prompted as well.

“He probably doesn’t… like me, though.”

Armin and Mikasa frowned, and Mikasa interjected Eren’s pity party. “You’re the only one he invited to come with him to the Quidditch World Cup.”

“Yeah, after Marco said ‘no’!” Eren cried.

Armin jumped in. “But you were the one he asked to come with him during Christmas break last year.”

“Just as friends!”

“How do you know that?”

“Because— because his mom thought we were an item, and I said we weren’t at the same time _he_ said we weren’t, but I just said that because we _literally_ weren’t, I mean I wouldn’t be _opposed_ to it, but he didn’t mean it like _I_ meant it—”

“And you know that, how?” Mikasa inquired, raising an eyebrow. Eren stayed quiet.

“Plus,” Armin said, pointing a finger in the air. “Your owls have been boning since fourth year.”

Both Eren and Mikasa made expressions of terror. “I could’ve gone without that, Armin.” Eren grimaced. Armin simply shrugged him off. “Just sayin’.”

Mikasa returned her focus to Eren. “What we’re trying to tell you, is that you have a good shot. Jean obviously really trusts you and values you, so what’s the harm in taking a risk?”

“Because—”

“Because you might never be friends again, yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that excuse before. _I_ turned him down, but we’re still friends, aren’t we?”

As much as he hated to admit it, Mikasa had a point. Armin and Mikasa took his silence as him begrudgingly agreeing, as Armin spoke up.

“Traditionally, courtship comes first, so you’ll need to ask him out on not-dates before you become a thing and then go on date-dates.”

Eren sat down on a wooden crate to listen, as Mikasa stood with her arms comfortably crossed over her chest. He’d need all the help he could get.

“You and the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw team captains are holding quidditch tryouts for new players next week, on friday, right? And hasn't he always been a huge fan of Quidditch?”

Eren stayed silent, as Armin’s ploy sunk in.

“Start there.”

With that, Armin offered him a hug of encouragement, and Mikasa gave him a pat on the shoulder, before they all left the broom closet. Eren marched back to their lunch table with shaky, but determined confidence, and if he purposely teased and poked Jean a little more than usual, who was he to blame?

_____

_____

 

“How come,” Eren murmured, staring idly at Jean out of the corner of his eye. He had to be as subtle and friend-like as possible about this. “How come you haven’t tried out for Quidditch at all, recently?”

They were sitting on the wide, stone sill of one of the many, high arches in the open corridor of the viaduct, overlooking a small segment of the Black Lake. Shrieks and barking laughs from students playing Gobstones in the connected courtyard echoed down towards them. The majority of students were accumulated there, in the courtyard, instead of enjoying the semi-quiet of where Jean and Eren were sitting. Eren was leaning against one side of the open window, as was Jean on the other, though Eren’s legs were strewn over either side to straddle the ledge, while Jean’s legs were tucked up to make a sort of easel for his sketchbook (the one Eren got him!). A crisp gust of September wind blew by, sweeping out Eren’s hair, which he had let down, and causing Jean’s papers to flutter.

“You know why.” Jean responded airily, flipping his pencil around to erase something from whatever he was drawing.

A stab of guilt struck Eren’s chest, and he quickly tried to backpedal. “Right, right— sorry, I meant—”

“No, it’s fine.” Jean snorted a little at Eren’s brief bout of panic. His honey eyes flitted up to glance at Eren over the top of his sketchbook. “I just haven’t really… gone after it since then. ‘Probably too late now anyway, right?”

His chuckle was a little empty, which didn’t do anything to ease Eren’s culpability.

“No! Not late at all!” He shouted, as Jean winced in surprise. Eren lowered his voice. “Sorry, sorry, but seriously! You talk as if you’re some old man in a rocking chair out on his back porch, or something!”

Jean grinned a little at Eren’s imagery. “I mean…”

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, nonononono,” Eren scooted forward and pressed his pointed finger against Jean’s (beautiful) cheek. “ _No._ ”

Jean snorted and batted his hand away. “Eren, if you’re trying to get me to try out next week, it’s not gonna happen. I’ve never played Quidditch in my life, I’d stand no chance.”

Eren froze for a second, caught off guard by Jean’s knowing where he was going, but briskly regained his very swole, incredibly flirtatious demeanor. “Well, how about we practice?”

Jean looked exceedingly amused, but skeptical. “Two weeks of practice versus who knows _how_ many years of practice? Eren, really?”

 _‘Yeah, really.’_ Eren thought. He hadn't thought this through— no, _Armin_ hadn't thought this through. _‘Shit, shit, shit, just wing it!’_

“Well, what's the harm in at least trying? I mean, come on! You love Quidditch so much! Even if you _do_ go to try outs but don't make the team, it'll still have been fun to try, right?”

Jean was silent, then, in contemplation. Another gust of wind— stronger this time— passed through the open tunnel, ruffling Jean’s blonde fringe. The oncoming sunset glinted off his glassy eyes and bathed everything in a bright, yellow glow. _Fuck_ , Eren wanted to kiss him so _bad_.

“Plus,” Eren flipped his hair in exaggerated narcissism. “You'd be practicing with the _Gryffindor team captain_. How could it go wrong?”

“Glad to see you’re not letting that get to your head too much,” Jean snorted. “But I guess you do have a point there.” He looked up and met Eren’s eyes. “I'm _not_ gonna make the team, but if you're so adamant about me training with you, I'll do it.”

Eren’s face split into a wide, toothy grin, as Jean closed up his sketchbook and stood. “We can start after classes, tomorrow, I guess.” Jean seemed to struggle with a thought for a few seconds, before giving Eren an awkward pat on the shoulder.

“Hey… walk me back?”

Eren practically _leaped_ to his feet, but speedily schooled himself so that he didn't look _too_ eager. “Yeah! Sure! Okay!”

Jean only laughed.

_____

_____

 

For the next two weeks, Eren took Jean out to the training grounds with his Comet 290, secluded themselves a wide patch of grass, and tried his very best to train Jean. Much to both of their surprise, Jean had a naturally grounded center of gravity, and found balancing on the thin backend of Eren’s broomstick rather easy.

Eren tried very hard to not see the sexual innuendo in all of this.

The next step in getting Jean up to speed, was getting him to make fast turns and spins and not throw up when suddenly the ground became the sky and then back again. This proved… also fairly easy for Jean to get the hang of. By the end of the first week, he could round the entire Quidditch pitch upside down and come up perfectly fine, if not for a red face thanks to blood rushing to his head.

Eren tried very hard to not be jealous.

Sure, Eren was only a tween when he started playing Quidditch, but it still left him a bit frustrated that Jean was just so… naturally good at broom riding. At least Jean still hadn’t done any of this with other people on teams, so there was bound to be some struggle there, right?

So, for the second week, Eren brought in Sasha and Connie to practice with them. One would be working with Jean as a team, and the other would be playing opponent. They couldn’t quite use the field or any equipment yet, so they made do with a floating loop of sticks Armin kept up as a goalpost, and Connie’s quaffle (Connie was also very eager for the second chance to try out for the Hufflepuff team. Everyone had high hopes for him).

Eren let Jean wear his armor, which was a bit of a funny sight as Jean, being taller and thinner than Eren, didn’t fit quite right into his armor. Eren’s chest guard hung clunkily from Jean’s shoulders and didn’t reach down far enough, and the fingers in his gloves were just a tad too short, but the helmet, shin guards, and forearm plates were adjustable so they were fine.

Sasha was just as skilled as Eren when it came to Quidditch, and both of them had performed a number of tricks during past games, such as the Finborough Flick, Porskoff Ploy, Reverse Passes, Sloth Grip Rolls, and then some. So, Eren felt confident that Jean was facing real competition, now.

Jean definitely mirrored Eren in his aggression during plays, which was nice to see both in the sense that A) that was something they had in common, and B) he was no longer getting the hang of it off the bat. Damn, was Eren’s jealousy that bad? Or was it just making him a better coach by challenging Jean? Probably both.

Finally, on that Friday, the day of the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor team tryouts, their whole group marched down to the Quidditch pitch to cheer Connie and Jean on. The captain of the Hufflepuff team— a tall, hijabi girl— and the captain of the Ravenclaw team— a short, quiet boy with freckles— were standing in a circle with their pre-existing team members in the middle of the field, all decked out in their gear and colored uniforms, most likely discussing last-minute details.

Since two of Hufflepuff’s Chasers and the Keeper had been 7th years and had therefore graduated last year, those spots were the ones open for the taking. The other house teams hadn't had any 7th years except for Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, whose graduated members were Reiner and Bertholt, respectively. Reiner'd appointed Eren to be the next captain before he left, leaving his Beater spot open for the taking. Eren was happy to see a nice bunch of Gryffindors conversing with other soon-to-try-out students.

He told Connie “good luck”, then meandered over to Jean, who was standing by himself and batting the handle of his broom back and forth between his hands, obviously nervously vouching for something to do with them. Eren gave Jean a firm pat on the back, causing the taller boy to jump a little.

Amber eyes meeting emerald, Eren leaned in a distance that was probably a little closer than platonic, “you’ll do great, trust me.”

Jean noded a little stiffly, but Eren didn’t tease him further. He strolled over to join the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw teams, the rest of Gryffindors soon following, to be briefed on what exactly the plans are. His eyes constantly flited back to Jean as they talked and joked a bit. He looked at the rest of his friends too, of course, but mostly Jean. Okay, mainly Jean. 99.999999999% Jean. Sasha’s elbow jammed into his ribs, and he turned to see her wiggling her eyebrows.

He smacked her head.

“ _ALRIGHT, EVERYONE!_ ” The Hufflepuff team captain boomed into her wand, her voice instantly being projected out to bounce around the pitch. “ _WE’RE READY TO START HUFFLEPUFF, RAVENCLAW AND GRYFFINDOR TRYOUTS! PLEASE GATHER ‘ROUND!_ ”

Connie, Jean, and a handful or so of other Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and Gryffindors jog over to them. Mikasa, Marco, and Armin disappear inside the spectator tower, but will soon come out and sit in the benches above.

“The open Hufflepuff positions are two Chaser spots and Keeper!” The Hufflepuff captain continues, and after the Ravenclaw team captain gives him the go to yell for him, Eren leans close to the Hufflepuff’s wand to follow up with, “The open Ravenclaw position is the Keeper spot, and the open Gryffindor position is a Beater spot!”

He hopes Jean finds his totally cool and commandeering leader-voice hot. “We’re going to play a normal game of Quidditch, minus the Golden Snitch. While playing, Melike, Jamie and I will be evaluating your performance.”

Melike takes her wand back. “Expect notices in a week on the bulletin. Now, let’s get started!”

The game is rough, aggressive, and full of competition, just the way Eren likes it. He’s more than happy to see the Gryffindor tryouts aren’t all show and no go, but instead very brutal and gruff in their playing. Just what a Beater needs to be. Melike is also pleased with her picking, as many of the Hufflepuff tryouts are nothing less than a blur in the air, and agile like light-weight dancers in one moment, yet blunt and full of trickery in the next. There are a few Hufflepuff Keepers who circulate out every twenty or so minutes as well. Jean isn’t one of them, but Connie is surprisingly a very good Keeper. It makes sense, as it’s such a simple and straightforward task, so he doesn’t have to stretch his focus thin over several things. Connie could work perfectly as a Keeper, actually. Eren has high hopes for him this time around.

Jean is also doing his very (oblivious) best to give Eren the worst broom-boner in his entire life. As a Chaser, he’s gorgeous on the broom, flying and twisting and dipping as if he’s been doing this as long as Eren has. His only downfall is his not-so-superb cooperation with his fellow Chasers, but Eren’s like that too, so it’s to be expected. Hopefully, if Jean makes the team, they can maybe work on that together.

Before long, the game is over, with Ravenclaw having won by twenty points. It’s an unofficial game, though, so it won’t be going in any fancy books. Eren, Melike and Jamie thank everyone for competing, and once again remind them to check the bulletin for the notices. Then everyone starts to trickle back towards the castle, sweaty and tired and ready to sleep. Eren runs up to Jean and play-tackles him in a puppy-like show of affection, and Jean stumbles a bit as Eren lifts him off of his feet for a split second.

“See, you did fucking great!” Eren yells, grin wide. “What did I tell ya?”

“Don’t get so excited,” Jean grouses, wiggling out of Eren’s grasp. “Wait until the notice goes up, then you can celebrate. _If_ I make it.”

“Awww, don’t be so pessimistic!”

Jean just looks at him. He’s proud of himself regardless of what’s coming out of his mouth, Eren can tell, so he doesn’t let his words dictate his meaning. “ _You_ just wait until the notice goes up.”

They join the rest of their friends and head back towards the castle.

_____

_____

 

Jean and Connie made the team. Eren had chosen one of the Gryffindor kids to be the new Beater, Jamie had picked a swift Ravenclaw to be the new Keeper, and Melike had chosen Connie to be Hufflepuff’s new Keeper, and Jean and some other Hufflepuff to be the new Chasers.

They were all _ecstatic_ . Eren practically ran Jean over with a tackle-hug, yelling “ _I told you so!_ ” into his ear, as did Sasha to Connie.

The first Inter-House Quidditch match of the year kicked off to a grand start, and was between Gryffindor and Slytherin, in November. As per usual, Eren rubbed the charm on his evil eye necklace with his thumb, and kissed it once for good luck before the game. Throughout the entire match, Eren made sure to show off as many stunts and skillful ploys he could manage, for he knew Jean was watching, and he was going to try his damndest to impress him. Dev Sahil, who?

Gryffindor won by a good sixty points, which already put them in the lead. Eren nearly broke his elbow trying to doge a Bludger while he was distracted and searching for Jean’s hopefully impressed stare in the crowd, but they won regardless. Even _Marco_ joined in on the subtle teasing of him for clearly trying to dazzle Jean, which probably said something about Eren’s overeager courting methods, so he hoped Jean didn’t catch on. Or maybe, actually, that he did. And reciprocated. Because that’d be wonderful.

The second game of the year was between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, just a week later. Being that this was Jean’s very first official game _ever_ , Eren felt a bit like an overly encouraging mother seeing her toddler off to their first day of school, what with all of his supportive quips and teasing jabs to Jean before the game.

His performance was quite a sight, to say the least. Jean was everything a Chaser ought to be: fast, precise, nimble, and surprisingly enough, communicated with his fellow Chasers much more effectively than he did during the tryouts. He must be one of those weird people that work better under pressure.

Ravenclaw was just as cool and calculated, which lead the game to almost end in a tie, with Hufflepuff pulling ahead by just ten points. Another good win, in Eren’s book— especially for Jean. Jean looked a little dazed when he landed on the ground and was met with deafening cheer, and Eren couldn’t’ve been more happy for him. He _loved_ Quidditch, and he was goddamn _good_ at it to boot, so this was like the stars aligning.

February came, and along with it, Valentine’s day and the Amortentia unit in Potions. Eren had spent more than enough time this year shooting jealous looks at couples and longing looks at Jean when said blond (supposedly) wasn’t looking, and wasn’t particularly paying any attention to the dates, so when someone said it was February already, Eren woke up with a start and began to panic about whether or not he should give Jean something for Valentine’s day or not.

Mikasa said yes, Armin said yes, Sasha and Connie said yes, and Marco, strangely enough, gave him a very pointed and definite _yes_ . Eren had tried to get Marco to find out if Jean had any interest in him several times already, but the freckled brunette had refused every time. Eren was frustrated to say the least, but if Marco said he absolutely _should_ give Jean something for Valentine’s day, then he had to be doing something right.

So, on the first weekend of February when they went with a larger-than-usual pack of students to Hogsmeade, Eren discreetly split himself up from Jean and snuck into Honeydukes to buy one of the shop’s exclusively special Valentine’s day heart-shaped boxes. There were a _lot_ of them. Boxes of assorted chocolates took up an entire wall of wooden shelves near the front of the store, and even more of them were piled on a spinning display stand just a few feet away from said wall. There were pink light bulbs in place in this part of the shop, obviously twisted in to set the mood for the upcoming lover’s holiday. Eren looked at his options.

There were boxes containing assorted chocolates with different fillings, some containing Chocoballs, some Fizzing Whizzbees, heart-shaped Nougat chunks, toffees, chocolate covered fruits, and so much more — it made Eren’s head spin. Jean liked strawberries, he remembered, so he began digging through the boxes and checking the backs to find one with Jean’s favorite fruit. If he was going to get Jean something for Valentine’s day, he was going to do it right.

Finally, after clambering up a ladder, being told to get off the ladder, and then stretching up on his toes to reach a box on a shelf just within arm’s reach, he found one filled with chocolate covered strawberries.

Bingo.

Smiling to himself, he began walking towards the front of the shop with his heart-shaped box, the coins in his jacket pocket jingling with each step. Just as he went past a barrel of Every Flavor Beans and rounded the corner, he bumped into someone.

They both let out grunts of surprise and scrambled back to get a look at one another, then Eren’s eyes widened as he stared at Jean, and Jean right back. Eren’s hands instantly flew behind his back to hide the Valentine’s day present from Jean, and he realized that Jean was doing the same thing, with his own hands obviously holding onto something behind his back.

“J-Jean!” Eren stammered, quickly slapping a smile onto his face. “I thought you and— and the rest of the guys were going— to get Butterbeer at— Three Broomsticks?”

Jean blinked a bit, and shuffled awkwardly as shrieks and chatter boomed around them from the fellow students wandering around the shop. “I— I told them I’d meet them later… I just— wanted some sweets… ‘s all…”

Like Eren, Jean still had his jacket on and no hat, so blonde hairs were sticking up this way and that, and his thin, pouty lips were pink from the cold, making him look unbearably cute in Eren’s eyes.

“Yeah…” Eren said, eyes flitting between Jean’s rapidly reddening face and the hands disappearing behind his back. “Me— me too!”

“O-Okay—”

“Yeah—”

They awkwardly stumbled around each other, both making sure to keep their backside out of view of the other. It was obvious; Jean was getting a Valentine’s day gift for someone, and Jean could tell the same about Eren. The second they turned, Eren whipped his box back to his front, and stiffly continued on his walk to the cash register.

He couldn’t help but wonder if Jean was getting something for him, or for someone else. The later thought made bitter jealousy jump to life in his stomach, and with that thought in mind, he paid for his box with a scowl, then returned to his friends for Butterbeer.

Jean showed up at Three Broomsticks minutes later carrying a Honeydukes bag identical to Eren’s, and they both kept their bags clutched tight. Conversation between the rest of their friends flowed freely as they drank their tall, bubbly glasses of butterbeer, but Jean and Eren were strangely silent. One would glance at the other out of the corner of his eye, then quickly look away.

That was until Eren’s eyes locked onto some foam on the corner of Jean’s lip. Without thinking, he leaned across the table and wiped it away with his thumb, causing Jean to jump in surprise.

“You had some foam… on your lip.” Eren explained, a little dazed with himself that he actually _did_ that. He quickly retracted his hand and subtly wiped his thumb against his pants, sitting back down.

Jean stuttered. “O-oh— okay… thanks.”

Eren realized, that everyone had gone quiet around them. He and Jean turned and stared at the rest of their friends, embarrassed. Eren felt his own face heating up, as Sasha and Connie whopped and catcalled teasingly, somehow managing to diffuse the uncomfortable tension. Jean and Eren shouted expletives at them and rolled their eyes, and just like that, they were back to the way things were before, any jealousy or awkwardness forgotten for the time being.

When Valentine’s eventually _did_ came around, Eren’s jealousy returned. He hoped beyond hope that whatever the fuck Jean got at Honeydukes was for him. Not because he wanted presents, but he wanted to know that there wasn’t someone else Jean had his eyes on. Did that make him selfish?

Just after classes had ended on Valentine’s day, Eren caught Jean’s sleeve and told him to meet at their stone window in the corridor overlooking the black lake in a few minutes. When asked why, Eren simply replied with “I wanna give you something.” That made it rather plain and obvious that he was planning on giving Jean a Valentine's day gift, but he wanted to get to it before Jean went off to meet who ever the other fucker was that he'd gotten a gift for. Eren’s hair was probably much prettier than their's anyway; Jean would be swayed in no time.

Then Eren went back to his room to fetch the box of chocolate covered strawberries from under his bed (which had been enchanted to keep the chocolate from melting and the strawberries from going bad, as well as repelling any pests that might’ve wanted to take a nibble on Jean’s gift), quickly kissed his evil eye charm for good luck because _fuck did he need it now_ , and rushed back to the open stone corridor. He found Jean at their same arch from earlier in the year, only he was standing by it rather than sitting on the ledge due to the snow fluttering down from above. He looked about as anxious as Eren felt, and had his hands behind his back like in Honeydukes.

As Eren approached, the box securely behind his own back, the two of them shared shy glances. A few flakes fluttered in through the west-facing arches, only to blink away into tiny dots of water upon hitting the stone floor. The sky was in that weird phase where it looked like one, giant, light gray cloud, but oddly enough, it was kinda nice.

Eren was standing right in front of Jean now, and before the situation could fall apart into the awkward, stumbly mess he knew it would, Eren whipped out the heart-shaped box from behind his back and shoved it into Jean’s chest.

“I—I got you this— it's a— this is just— you know it’s kind of— just, here.”

Jean blinked a few times at the red, heart-shaped box. His cheeks were red, and although it was probably just from the cold, Eren hoped beyond hope that he was blushing.

“That's…” Jean began, and Eren could see a slow smile curling across his lips. “That's actually kinda funny—”

 _Ow_.

“No, no! Not like that— I mean— because I got you… this too.”

Jean’s hands came out from behind his back to reveal a tall, clear, cylindrical container with “Pink Coconut Ice” written in loopy, cursive letters stamped onto the front. Indeed, there were millions of little pink squares inside it.

“I remembered you like coconut so—”

Eren couldn't help but grin wide as the pieces of his previously shattered heart zoomed the _fuck_ back together. He gently took the container from Jean’s hand. “Thank you, Jean. I love it.” He breathed.

As Jean took the heart-shaped box from Eren’s outstretched hand, Eren quickly told him to open it and try one, given that Jean hadn't seen the back and therefore didn't know the box’s contents. When Jean did just that— lifting the lid off to see the dozen chocolate covered strawberries— he let out a little, breathless laugh.

“Strawberries.” Was all he said, trying not to giggle more. It didn't work. “Strawberries.”

“Go on— eat one!” Eren prompted, already wrestling the plastic lid off of his container of Pink Coconut Ice. His mouth was already watering.

“Wait wait! We gotta— we gotta do this—” Jean picked up one of the strawberries and held it out towards Eren, who’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “What… do you want me to do?”

Jean made a little motion, indicating the cube of pink coconut ice in Eren’s bare palm. “Cheers em, then eat at the same time!”

Eren glanced between his Valentine’s gift and Jean’s eager face. “You’re a fucking dork, you know that?”

“Takes one to know one, number five.”Came Jean’s smart-mouthed retort.

They bumped their treats together and then simultaneously popped them into their mouths. Sugary, coconutty, and oh-so-sweet were the coconut cubes. Just the way Eren liked it. He couldn’t help the warmth bubbling to life in his chest at the fact that Jean _remembered_ something he liked and went _out of his way_ to get him it on Valentine’s day. _Valentine’s day._

Eren’s wide smile melted into a face of shy uncertainty. “So…”

Jean looked up from where he’d been flinging his hand about in the air, trying to get the strawberry leaves off his fingers without tossing the remaining strawberries out of his still open box.

“Does this mean… makes us…” Eren stumbled, trying to find the right words to get the point across without sounding too eager to fucking _leap_ forward and kiss Jean’s pretty pink lips.

Getting what Eren was getting at, Jean’s already cherry face darkened a bit, and his eyes bounced over to meet Eren’s. “I— uh… if you— if you wan— I mean, if you— I dunno, really…”

“If I want to…?” Eren guessed, almost unbelieving. Did he really hear— was Jean really— did he just almost say he was— up for it?

Jean coughed, and brought his now leaf-free hand back so that he could close his heart-shaped box, and clutch it in front of his face with both hands. Eren couldn’t bring himself to focus on anything else— not the other kids fucking around in the courtyard just meters away, not the tiny flecks of snow littering the top of Jean’s head like sprinkles, not anything other than the beautiful boy in front of him who, if Eren’s ears weren’t just thinking wishfully, was probably about to confess— confess a fucking— could this even be real? This was actually happening, right?

“ ‘D be… ‘f you wan’ a… I kin’a really sorta’— uh… _like_ …”

Eren’s breath hitched, and his grip tightened around his pink ice. He’d never felt more awake and aware of _one, single thing_ in his entire _life_.

“… you…”

Eren’s hand flew up to his mouth— not to cover it— but to roughly dig the heel of his palm into one side of it in an attempt to alleviate his yearning to scream into the abyss.

His entire world just narrowed down to Jean motherfucking Kirschtein, who stood in front of him in his cute as _hell_ yellow Hufflepuff turtleneck in all his lanky, gorgeous glory, held his own Valentine’s day present in front of his (probably redder than hell itself) face, and made a _fucking love confession_ to _EREN_. HIM. EREN!!!

 _‘Alright_ — _alright alright alright calm down now, this isn’t even that big of a deal, why are you hyping this up so much_ —’

Eren lifted his arm up, hesitated for a split second, then gently pushed Jean’s heart-shaped box down so he could see Jean’s handsome, indeed redder than cayenne pepper face, looking terrified yet hopeful all in one.

Slowly, quietly, he murmured. “I kinda really sorta… _like_ you, too.”

Jean blinked, and _god_ , the way light shimmered in his eyes and a small, happy grin spread its way across his lips was _stunning_. The heart-shaped box lowered even more as Jean stood up straight once again. “How— how long? I mean— you’re not just doing this out of pity, are yo—”

“Jean, I’ve wanted to kiss your dumb fucking face since the beginning of this year— you and your fucking sunburn.”

Jean let out a surprised, breathless laugh of embarrassment.

“And according to Armin, I’ve apparently liked you since well before that without me even _knowing_ , so go figure.”

“Honestly, you’re denser than osmium, so he’s probably right.”

When Eren smacked his upper arm with an open palm, Jean only laughed harder. “Wait, wait, but—” Jean started through his chuckles. “Did you go to Armin about— like does he know, or…?”

Eren let out a big, over-exaggerated sigh, and rubbed his forehead. “I uh… I went to him for— like I dragged him and Mikasa out of the Great Hall and into some broom closet to talk about— about— _christ this is gonna sound stupid_ — but to talk about my like… _feelings_ for you—”

“Oh my god.” Jean covered his mouth with his free hand, but it was clear as day that he was grinning wide. “I think I know what day you’re talking about— I saw you guys leave the room and got really jealous.”

“Really!?” Eren shrieked, smirking himself. He teasingly poked Jean in the ribs.

“Hey, hey! _I_ didn’t go into a _broom_ _closet_!”

Eren cackled— this was the giddiest he’s ever felt in his _life_ — is this what being high felt like?

“But anyway…” He continued. “Armin was actually the one who suggested I get you to try out for Quidditch. Made sense anyway.”

Jean only hummed, gazing at Eren with a kind of fondness he was pretty sure had only ever been seen by the likes of his mother and _maybe_ Marco. Holy shit.

“This… feels like the moment we should kiss.” Eren not-so-subtly suggested. Instantly, Jean’s fond look turned into wide-eyes and panicked blushing.

“I— I uh— I’ve never— I haven’t—”

Eren cut in. “It’s okay— I haven’t ever kissed anyone either…” He took a little scoot-step closer to Jean. “But it can’t be that hard, you know?”

“We’re— you tell me?” Jean tried to joke nervously. Eren could see his amber stare dancing between his own eyes and his lips. Their faces weren’t getting any closer, and if either of them took even a fraction of a step forward, they’d be bumping chests. God, Jean only had three centimeters on him but did he fucking have _three goddamn centimeters on him_. Fuck.

“Should we just kind of—” Jean started, only for Eren to interrupt him by muttering, “Now or never…” Before his hand darted out to cup the back of Jean’s head, and drag him down into a rough, sudden, close-lipped kiss.

Eren missed and was a little lower than where Jean’s lips actually were, but quickly adjusted, and dragged his lips over to where they _really_ needed to be. Sparks were flying behind his firmly shut eyelids, he swore it. Jean’s lips tasted faintly like chocolate and strawberry, and Eren was pretty sure his own tasted like coconut and sugar, but that only made his first ever kiss (hoooooooly shiiiiiiiiit) even sweeter.

It was only a few seconds later that he pulled away— keeping his hand on the back of Jean’s neck— to look into Jean’s shocked, but dazedly pleased eyes. They weren’t panting for breath, as they hadn’t been standing there touching mouth-holes for longer than a few seconds, but Eren was pretty sure neither of them were taking any actual breaths as they silently stood there, fumbling for the right thing to say.

“... leave me a nice Yelp review?” Eren eventually mustered up.

Jean burst out laughing, doubling over to clutch his stomach as Eren took an amused step back. Eren soon joined in, and the two of them joyfully walked back towards the castle as the beginnings of sunset glittered over the horizon.

_____

_____

 

The third Quidditch game of the year was just Ravenclaw versus Slytherin, only a week later, so Eren and Jean sat down next to each other in the benches for this one. Thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder, and trying-to-be-subtle-but-totally-failing bashful look to trying-to-be-subtle-but-totally-failing bashful look. They hadn’t formally told the rest of their friends the news that they were— an item? A thing? Together? _Boyfriends??_ — yet, but they were both fairly sure the rest of their friends could tell anyway.

They hadn’t kissed again since Valentine’s day, but were definitely less shy about being handsy with each other. Hell, they were holding hands right now, as a matter of fact, and the long folds of the turkish winter blanket Eren’s family had given him over Christmas break covered up their hands anyway, so it wasn’t like anyone could tell.

Slytherin and Ravenclaw were both very well-known houses for being cunning and clever, so it was definitely a fun game to watch. Slytherin was currently in the lead by a good seventy points, and frankly, they owed it all to their two Beaters (who, hilariously enough, were actually fraternal twins).

Eren and Jean had talked only once about relationship-related things since their whole confession-session in the stone corridor, and Jean had admitted that he wasn’t really that comfortable with PDA sorts of things. He was fine with the rest of their friends knowing (they already did anyway) and had even wrote home about it to his mother, with an incredibly supportive reply accompanying an “I told you so”. However, he didn’t want to go strolling down halls swinging hands or sneaking kisses in class or any of that.

Eren, of course, eager to be the best fucking boyfriend to ever boyfriend, was completely cool with not announcing their newly-found undying love to the world (just yet).

_____

_____

 

The fourth game was between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, in March. This meant Eren and Jean were actually going up against each other for the first time, as well as Sasha against Connie.

While both teams were standing inside the little hall within one of the many tall quidditch pillars, waiting for the announcer to call them to fly out, Eren and Jean whispered snarky threats at each other in the semi-dark. Just as the names of his fellow Gryffindor teammates started booming from outside, Eren seized the opportunity and gave Jean a quick slap on the ass before dashing out into the stadium, hearing Jean start to squawk and sputter. _That_ would definitely set things in motion for an exciting game— at least between the two of them. In all his excitement, he even forgot to kiss the charm of his büyükanne’s necklace.

Eren quickly got his head into game mode and flew up to his six other team mates, all decked out in their red and gold uniforms. As the speedy March wind whipped their capes around wildly, and the grayscale of clouds blocked out any and all specks of blue overhead, Eren barked out, “Alright team! We’ve got this!”

With gloved fists pumping into the air, his team shouted in response, and the red and gold clusters of onlookers in the seats roared back.

Then the Hufflepuff players came zooming out behind Melike, all determined faces and nasty grins— save for a particularly red-faced one from a certain lanky number six. From across the pitch, Eren made eye contact with Jean, and the two smirked challengingly at each other. Boyfriends or not, they were going to be as rough and rowdy with each other as possible.

Suddenly, the shrill voice of the umpire calling the quaffle into play pierced through the competitive atmosphere, and with that, it was game _on_.

“MEYERS HAS GOT THE QUAFFLE! HE’S HEADED STRAIGHT TOWARDS GRYFFINDOR’S GOAL POSTS!”

Immediately, the thrill of quidditch set a spark alight among the Hogwarts stadium. Meyers zigzagged and swooped and dived his way ever closer to Gryffindor’s goal posts, only to get the tail end of his broom bashed with a Bludger, effectively sending him spinning off somewhere as the Quaffle went flying. A Gryffindor quickly snatched it back up — possibly Chen, but he was moving too fast to really tell.

The ball kept getting passed back and forth, side to side, up and down, and every which way across the pitch, sometimes sailing _outside_ the stadium, and sometimes narrowly sailing over student’s and teacher’s heads.

Admittedly, Eren and Jean camped out on top of each other for the entire first half of the game. Their eyes were constantly locked in a challenging staring contest; they were focused solely on guarding the other, and if one of them had to fly off to join a formation of some sort, he made sure to shoulder check the other as hard as possible on the way by. By the time all fourteen players were drenched in their own sweat and panting, a light sheen of snow had started to flutter down from the fat mass of cloud cover above (they’d really only been having these drizzle-like snows this month so far). As of forty-nine minutes, the score rested at Gryffindor’s seventy versus Hufflepuff’s seventy.

Suddenly, Eren was knocked out of their little flirty-competitive-thing by his Seeker shrieking at him from the left, “Captain! With all due respect, stop eye-fucking number six already!”

Flustered (from the snow, obviously), Eren was shaken out of his and Jean’s staring contest and turned to shoot a nasty look at Chen. “I’m _not_ eye-fucking him, Chen!”

Said Seeker raised a cheeky eyebrow, then rushed to dodge Eren’s swipe.

“It’s called _guarding_ , ya piece a shit!”

Chen only began laughing pointedly before dashing off, as Eren yelled more excuses after him.

Huffing, Eren scanned the long pitch for a certain ashen-haired, yellow uniform, but to his shock and surprise, found the spot where Jean had been hovering just moments before was now devoid of any lanky, cute boys.

“KIRSCHTEIN HAS GOT THE QUAFFLE!”

Whipping his snowflake-ridden head around, Eren gawked as Jean whizzed by just underneath him, confidently weaving in and about his fellow teammates. Wasting no time, the brunette rushed after him.

 _‘Don’t think ‘cus you’re cute I’m gonna go easy on ya,’_ He recalled himself saying just fifty-something minutes prior.

 _‘I’d hope not,’_ Jean had sassed back. _‘I’d like to rough you up a little.’_

Jean hadn’t meant that in a dirty way, but that’s the first thing Eren’s mind went to, and he let it be known by giving Jean and exaggerated face of interest, licking his lips and wiggling his eyebrows and going, _‘Oooh, keepin’ it spicy— OW!’_

Face red up to his ears, Jean had shoved Eren, all the while harshly whispering, _‘I didn’t mean it like that, Jaeger!’_

Back to the present, Eren smirked to himself and zoomed after Jean, who was already raising his arm up, about to chuck the quaffle into the highest hoop. Their Keeper was already in position, two other Gryffindors were flying at him, the commentator was screaming something about the Seekers on the other side of the pitch, and Eren was _almost_ close enough to smack it out of his hands when suddenly he tossed the quaffle…

...to Melike!

Dazzled for a few seconds, everyone quickly readjusted and flew after her, only for her to throw the ball back to Jean.

Oh. They were pulling _that_ move.

Gritting his teeth, Eren barked for someone to stay near Melike this time, guarding her instead of scrambling over to Jean again. Santiago rushed to comply, as Eren charged headstrong at Jean, who was visibly recalibrating now that Melike was being watched. Amber eyes quickly noticed Eren charging at him, and the blond immediately turned and took off, intent on stalling them until Melike or another one of his teammates could free up.

“OLSEN GAINS ON THE GOLDEN SNITCH! BUT MCWILLIAMS IS HOT ON HER HEELS!”

As Eren chased Jean around like a cat batting after a fly, he assessed the game situation. About sixty minutes on the clock, both teams tied at seventy points, and the end of the game coming ever closer as both Seekers raced just behind the speedy little golden ball. Olsen, Gryffindor’s current Seeker, was closer, so technically another ten points won to Hufflepuff wouldn’t mean anything to the Snitch’s one hundred and fifty, but still. McWilliams was _right_ behind her.

Suddenly, as Eren refocused back into the game, he realised that Jean had made a complete 180° and they were now headed right at each other. Panic rushed through his body faster than anything in his life, because while fighting in-game was fun, the last thing he’d want to do was wind Jean up in the Hospital Wing. Or in this case, both of them.

But, before Eren could frightfully swerve off to the side or down or anywhere really, time seemed to slow down as Jean shakily kicked his feet up onto the handle of his broom in a low squat. Then, he launched himself forward towards Eren’s broom, kicking his own downwards and out of the way in the process, landed on the front end of Eren’s broom handle for a split second before leaping over Eren himself, and simultaneously hurling the quaffle into the highest goal.

As the unsuspecting Gryffindor Keeper and everyone in the Pitch watched, the quaffle went sailing through the hoop, and Jean came falling back down onto his own broom, which had gone straight under Eren.

“MCWILLIAMS HAS CAUGHT THE GOLDEN SNITCH! HUFFLEPUFF WINS WITH TWO HUNDRED AND THIRTY POINTS!”

The yellow-clad patches of the stadium erupted into deafening cheering, and slowly, chants of “MCWILLIAMS!” and “KIRSCHTEIN!” began combating each other over the pitch.

As all fourteen players fly down to the ground, Eren immediately charges towards Jean the _second_ both his feet touch the grass.

“EREN, EREN, WAIT WAIT WAITWAITWAI—” Jean screeches as he sees the brunette barreling towards him, but it is too late, as Eren has already swept him up in a bone-crushing hug.

“You fucking _madman_ — don’t you _ever_ fucking do something like that again _oh my Goooood!”_

Eren yells into Jean’s sweaty neck, anger and pride and _love_ coursing through his shaking body.

Jean lets out soft, happy chuckles and slowly lifts his arms to hug Eren back, despite all the eyes watching them. As the cheering kicks up again Jean closes his eyes to block them out, he leans his head against Eren’s, his _boyfriend’s_ , and whispers, “Thanks for wrangling my ass into trying out.”

Somewhere behind them, Melike hands Chen a galleon, Connie and Sasha woop and cheer, and even further up above them in the wooden seats, Armin, Marco, and Mikasa look down with ear-splitting grins.

Smiling into Jean’s neck, Eren replies, “Any time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIIIIIIIIIGHT
> 
> SO
> 
> One idea I had originally for this chapter was for Eren, at the end of the Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff game, to round up both the teams (minus Jean) into a giant musical number and sing his love confession to Jean (the cliche to end all cliches amirite) while Jean blushed so much and wished he could burry himself in the ground immediately
> 
> I had songs like Everybody Talks and Animal by Neon Trees in mind, but then my friend suggested fucking diD I MENTOIN fROM dESCENDaNTS AnD I COULDN"T
> 
> JuST.... JUSt WATch THIS fRiCKIN VIDEO AND imAGINe MAC AS JEAN anD PRinCE I DONT FuCKIN REMEMBER HIs NAME aS EREN
> 
> \---> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U4WPjBZy-7s
> 
> lmao


End file.
